Dan and Cam: Two Little Boys
by amberfly
Summary: Daniel Jackson and Cameron Mitchell run foul of an alien device and are now five year old boys.
1. Chapter 1

Series: Dan and Cam

Series: Dan and Cam.  
Title: Two Little Boys.  
Author: Amberfly.  
Category: Kidfic.  
Warnings: None.  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
Disclaimer: Borrowing only, not mine.

This is a story about Daniel and Cameron. In this story, they are only five years old, and their guardian is Jack.

His face partially obscured by a mountain of folders, O'Neill fell through his door after he had toed it open, and then dropped the files on his desk with a soft curse and a satisfying thud. Hand drifting across his face, he scratched at the smooth skin as he eyed the spilt papers resignedly.

Arching his eyebrow, he caressed the prong of the latest pot plant muttering, "Now that, my fine green friend, could well be the most exciting thing I've done all week. Hell, given my schedule, it's the highlight of my month." Sniffing at the freshly perked coffee, he smiled and picked up one of the custard crèmes left to tempt him. Calling out his thanks to Captain 'biscuit fairy' and silently laughing at her cheerful response, he murmured, "Ah, nothing wrong in buttering up a General I guess."

Lowering himself into his chair, he called out to his assistant, asking her to come in and bring the Dictaphone. He looked up and smiled when she appeared, asking her how her morning had gone. Waving for her to take a seat, he grabbed a thick file, reading it carefully, now all business.

O'Neill spent his morning absorbed in the paperwork, occasionally calling for the pretty, red-haired captain to bring him coffee or help him locate a missing file. Gazing around his office, he rolled the kinks from his shoulders and carelessly lobbed a paper missile at his bin. Picking up and fiddling with the framed photo of his cabin in Minnesota, blew a quiet sigh, and felt his mind wander. A gentle smile crossed his face as he pictured the pretty, fish-less lake.

Giving his head a quick shake, he scratched at a speck on the glass, and looking hard at the faded pier, decided it probably needed oiling. Shutting his eyes, he imagined the gentle breeze blowing in his face, and fancied he heard the whip-poor-will, mournfully crying in its tree. Tracing his finger around the wooden frame, he placed it carefully down and opened another file

Just after lunch, Captain Leonard knocked quietly and entered the room, her face unusually grave. Giving her commanding officer a worried look, she said, "Excuse me, sir, you have a phone call from Cheyenne Mountain. It's Colonel Carter. Shall I put her through?

Normally an astute man, he didn't pick up the note of hesitancy in the captain's voice, just thrilled with the thought of such a welcomed distraction. Finishing annotating a file with a flourish, he nodded. "Certainly, Captain, I think it's acceptable if I drag myself away from," and waving a hand vaguely in the air, "whatever the hell this is."

The captain nodded quickly and opened her mouth as if to add something. Seeing the general's crooked smile and questioning look, she said, "Of course, sir, patching her through."

Hastily pushing the pile of papers to the side, he grabbed the flashing phone, a smile lighting his face. Jack rolled his chair back, and rocking gently, waited for his old friend to start her chatting, filling him in with the SGC gossip. Patting his cluttered desktop, searching for the Santa cup Daniel bought him last Christmas; he gulped a mouthful, and wrinkled his brow in disgust. Coughing, he delicately spat out the bitter, cold, coffee. Clicking his fingers, alerting the attention of his adjacent, he pointed to his cup, and shrugged boyishly.

Mouthing "cold," he handed her the cup, rehearsing in his mind his conversation. "Make another pot, Captain," he whispered," this could take a while." Slightly embarrassed by his eagerness, Jack wondered if his old team missed him as much as he missed them.

His time in Washington had started to feel like a life sentence, and looking around his spacious office, he pictured their faces and smiled. The verbal sparring with Daniel had been the highlight of his day, and annoying Carter the icing on the cake. A solitary man by nature, Jack found it hard to fathom just how much he needed that contact, and as the months ticked by, he found himself wishing for retirement. He found his promotion and the desk job soul-destroying. O'Neill was born to be a warrior, and he knew with a sinking heart, he would never make the consummate politician. The political animals feared him, and he despised them back. Jack studied their bland faces at the interminably long meetings and suspected the desk warriors considered him a relic from the past. Strolling out of a meeting the day before and sizing up a small, rat-faced major, Jack reminded himself to lay bait under the almond tree.

The young captain bit back her smile, and nodding, neatly turned on her heel hurrying out. With a spring in her step, Captain Leonard hummed softly. She had never worked for a man remotely like General O'Neill. She loved the prestige and pomp of working for the Pentagon, and found the new general to be an irreverent, cranky, and amusing man.

Watching the young officer scurry out, uncomfortably aware of her adoration, he gave his head a slight shake and grinned. Thinking back to another young officer he had effortlessly charmed and constantly teased, he said." So, Carter, tell me, what's up? Can I offer more sterling advice on the art of successful coloneling? Happy to oblige." Barreling on, happy to be included in his old team's life, he asked," How's Daniel, is he still driving Mitchell crazy? Mind you, Carter, that's a mighty short trip."

Grinning, chuckling at his wit, he nodded as the captain handed him fresh coffee. Waving her out and blowing on the scalding liquid, he waited impatiently for Carter to answer him. As the seconds dragged on, and ice began to churn in his stomach, Jack knew something had happened to his team. Something he wouldn't like. Moreover, he knew it concerned Daniel.

Carter ran her hand through her hair, and swallowing a sob, struggled to speak clearly. Sniffing softly, her nose stuffy and eyes red, she angrily swiped at the tears running down her face. Her voice cracking with emotion, she whispered, "Sir, it's about Daniel and Colonel Mitchell. Something terrible has happened."

Looking over her shoulder, she winced as the two small boys watched her every move with careful eyes. When she had begun to cry, the children had instantly stopped playing, and edging closer to her, grabbed at her fingers. Sensing something had upset her, but not understanding what, they stared at her anxiously. Bumping their sturdy little bodies against her leg, they blinked up at her, and squeezed her hand tighter.

The boys looked to be about four or five years old, and were so close in coloring, they could easily pass for brothers. Dressed in jeans, and sporting brightly colored t-shirts, they looked American as apple pie. Tangled and mussed, their hair badly needed cutting, and both were missing the odd, tiny tooth. Extremely active and playful, the little boy's had run the SGC personnel ragged, and General Landry had suggested the colonel contact O'Neill.

"Call…the…general" he breathed heavily, his face bright red from the exertions of playing 'tag you're it" with the small children. He huffed, puffed, and wheezed, waving his hand in the air, unable to catch his breath. "It must be his turn to sit these bloody kids by now." Hearing the high-pitched giggles start up again and smiling weakly, the general threw his hands in the air, imitating the universal… I surrender sign. Holding Carter's glance, he mouthed, "now.'

Dragged in, and ordered to baby-sit, Siler slapped the palm of his hand against his face in shock. Looking at the boys with an experienced fatherly eye, he figured this assignment was a bust. He kept them for as short a time as possible before knocking on the general's door, ushering the kids in, and hinting there may be a sun he needed to blow up.

"I probably need to check the…explosives, sir. I can't risk taking the boys into the armory, can I?"

Narrowing his eyes at the innocent look plastered on the sergeant's face, General Landry nodded and said, "Uh-huh, I'll take that under advisement." Scanning his personnel, his eyes sought and found Harriman, and clapping his hands together, waved him across.

The little sergeant contacted the general by phone within the hour, having locked the hyperactive little boys in the VIP suite's bathroom. His breathing ragged, desperation tingeing his voice, he explained that it was his considered opinion that the communication system needed a complete overhaul. "Sir, what if our allies try to contact us and they get a busy signal? "Worse, think we haven't paid the bill?" Throwing a nervous glance over his shoulder, he shuddered, and added." The boy's are locked in the bathroom for the moment, sir. Colonel Mitchell has probably figured a way out, though, and he's a resourceful little... basket."

Teal'c had been stalwart in his efforts to amuse the boys, and had eventually sniffed, and demanding the general relieve him of the onerous duty, explained he was a warrior, not a nursemaid. "These children are in need of an experienced child minder, which I am not." Placing his hands behind his back, tilting his head in a regal pose, he strolled out of the general's office and didn't look back. He had survived the wrath of the Goa'uld; he would survive the wrath of a general.

Sam was exasperated with the obvious ass-covering tactics of certain SGC personnel and took the boys into her care. As the days wore on and the full implications set in, she felt overcome with grief and admitted to Doctor Lam that she felt she couldn't cope anymore. Slumping, exhaustedly into a chair, she covered her face with her hands and said, "Carolyn, these are my dearest friends! How can you ask me to wipe their noses and tie their sneakers?" Looking up into the kind brown eyes of the doctor, she pleaded, "The general is more attuned to children; maybe he will know what to do."

General Landry agreed to help out, and played with the children when needed. As much as he found the little boys' antics amusing, he was keen to shift the awesome responsibility elsewhere. The SGC mantle was demanding, and he wanted a solution to Doctor Jackson and Colonel Mitchell's dilemma found yesterday. He knew O'Neill well--better than most—and-- he figured he would take the boys until Felger figured out what he had activated on the Fountain of Youth device. Carefully bamboozling and fending off awkward enquiries from Washington, he knew he played a dangerous game.

When Felger had slunk in to his office, eyes downcast and stammering like an idiot, Hank had felt an overwhelming urge to shoot him. Eventually, at the frantic urging of Carter, he had given him one month to fix his monumental balls-up. After the month was up and he still played chasey with his flagship team, he swore he would take the engineer and shoot him himself. Jay gulped, and assuring himself the general only teased him, had nodded his head with renewed hope. Blundering towards the door and patting the little blonde head of Colonel Cameron Mitchell, he scurried out, throwing a ridiculous salute at the grim faced general.

Seeing her display of grief had un-nerved the boys, Carter placed her hand over the phone, and forced herself to answer brightly, "Daniel, Cameron, come and sit down. Be good boys and play quietly, I won't much longer. I'm speaking to General O'Neill. He'll know what to do, won't he.

The little shaggy haired version of Daniel Jackson wrinkled his brow in concentration, the name O'Neill sounding comfortingly familiar. The memory settled in his brain, and feeling a stab of recognition, he nodded his head vigorously. Smiling with delight and nudging Mitchell with his hip, chattered excitedly, "Cam, you 'member Jack, doncha? He's cool. He'll play chasey all night long. General Landry is just too fat, and he gets pooped."

Happily agreeing with his little friend's assessment of the suspect fitness of the kindly general, Cameron looked up at Sam, and patting her leg kindly, added, "Oh yeah! I 'member him, too." The name tweaked his memory, but as soon as the picture formed, it disappeared, leaving only an odd, comforting feeling. Deciding with the predilection of the very young that if his best friend loved Jack then he would too, jumped around demanding to know when he would come. The SGC was boring and Cam wanted to leave as soon as possible." When is he coming to get us? Cos, I'll need to pack up my stuff. Do you think he likes hamburgulars, Sam? Cos we sure do, don't we, Daniel? Oh, and Sam, we like shakes, but only if they're chocolate. Ask him Sam, ask Jed when he's gonna come and take us home."

On the other end of the phone, sitting in his plush chair behind his expensive desk in Washington, General Jack O'Neill looked like a deer in a spotlight. Shifting his butt, he wondered if he was dreaming. The conversation he heard was bizarre; it couldn't be real, could it? Jed? Who was Jed? Who did that the kid mean? Me? Take us home? Take who home? Why was the most secure facility in the world acting like a childcare?


	2. Chapter 2

Series: Dan and Cam

Series: Dan and Cam.  
Title: A Beautiful Morning. Part 2#  
Author: Amberfly  
Feedback: Yes, Please.  
Warnings: None.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.

Category: Kidfic.

The morning was fresh and the breeze blew the scent of sweet smelling grass through the air. Washing the truck and listening to the whoops and hollers of the playing children, Jack felt contented.

It had been a month since he had taken a temporary leave of absence from his Washington post, and subsequent custody of his little wards. Once the news of the general's arrival had reached the water coolers, the SGC personnel had practically strewn rose petals at his feet. During their short but busy stay, the active boys had driven Stargate Command crazy. When General Landry had seen Jack lope in, he seriously considered capturing his old friend in a bear hug, in case he tried to leave. Patting Jack on the back and knuckling his arm, Hank knew he was being overly tactile. Grimacing, he couldn't stop himself; he was just so thrilled to have the boys collected. Grinning and with his hand planted firmly on the other general's back, he gently maneuvered O'Neill towards the lifts. Pressing the button, Hank grinned pleasantly, his hands flying threw the air, "So, Jack how's it has been? Busy? That is marvelous! Really, I'm very pleased that it's working out for you. Did I say how good it is to see you? I did? Well, it is…good to see you."

Jack laughed at his old friend's tactics, and batting his hand away, growled softly, "Hank, I said I would take the boys home and I will. Get any closer and you'll have to marry me." Rubbing at his eye, Hank took a step back and laughed self consciously, "Right, of course. Sorry, Jack. God, it's been a long week. They're great kids, you'll love em, but I have to warn you, they are extremely active. "With an apologetic shrug, General Landry shuddered.

Realizing his mistake and raising a bushy white eyebrow, he added quickly, "Not that it would be a problem for you, Jack. No, in fact pretend I didn't say anything. Ignore me. I've been a little tired lately, not been sleeping well." Seeing the look of disbelief cross his old friend's face, Hank lowered his eyes and mumbled, "It's playing all that chasey, my brains are scrambled."

"Ah-huh, I can see that."

"Fine, laugh while you can, Jack. I'll be sure to come over in a week's time and return the compliment."

While the initial phone call from a distraught Carter had thrown him, Jack had the luxury of several days to come to terms with the magnitude of the accident. Reassigning Captain Leonard and organizing special leave, the general felt an optimism he hadn't known for months. A career soldier, Jack was used to shuffling fates playing cards and rolled with the punches. He ordered furniture, small bikes, toys, and clothes by the truckload, and with a wide grin, handed the astronomical bill to Hank.

Scanning the bill, Hank turned it around and glancing up, looked at his old friend pointedly. Leaning his butt against the desk and folding his arms, he politely enquired if the amount included which small Kansas town. Ignoring the sarcasm and patting him on the back, Jack demanded to meet his new kids.

It was mutual love at first sight.

The little boys shone like new pennies. Scrubbed ruthlessly, the children's eyes were downcast and their bottom lips trembled. Shaggy blonde hair slicked down, button-up shirts cruelly pinching their necks, and their hideous brown shorts pulled up so high, they looked like a couple of Harry High pants. Pouting, the little boys looked uncomfortable and clearly out of sorts.

Raking his eyes over the upset children, Jack felt overwhelmed with a paternal love for them. Daniel's lashes were damp with tears and Cameron had his tiny hand plastered across his backside. Arching an eyebrow at the sergeant, it was clear to Jack, the boys hadn't enjoyed their day spa experience. The stern-looking sergeant introduced herself with a scowl, and then motioned the boys to come forward and shake the general's hand.

"Attention! Children, front and centre!"

Daniel and Cameron grabbed hands and instantly jumped. "Ma'am, yes, ma'am!"

"At ease, airman." Struggling not to burst out laughing, Jack dismissed the cranky sergeant with a wave of his hand. Rolling his eyes, he whispered to the wary little faces blinking up at him, "Oy, she was scary." Kneeling down to their eye level, he gently undid tight top buttons, wriggled the shorts down to their hips, and playfully mussed the boy's hair. Leaning back to appreciate his handiwork, Jack took Cameron's hand in his, and whispered kindly, "You probably deserved the whooped fanny, peanut." Smiling, and pulling him into hug, he ignored the frantic head shaking and added kindly, "Fair enough."

The little boys sensed a kindred spirit in Jack, and began clamoring all over him, telling him their tale of woe. Grabbing at the general's fingers, Daniel looked up, and studied his face, struggling to remember why he looked familiar.

Dismissing it for the moment, Danny tearfully explained how the horrible sergeant rubbed soap into his eyes. Not to be outdone in the misery stake, Cameron Mitchell tugged on the other hand and whispered behind his hand, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment, "Jake, that serge'nt smacked my butt, twice! Can we shoot her? Shove her frew the Stargate? Serge'nt Siler said I out rank her. Did I? Can ya'll court martial her?"

"That's Jack. Cameron, I cannot court martial the sergeant, so give it up. Giving his head a rueful shake, Jack lowered his voice discretely, "She's way too frightening!" Taking out two Hershey bars from his coat pocket, the general decided he'd leave the rest of the little colonel's suggestions alone. Whirling around and looking at the closed door, Jack wrinkled his brow in thought. "Where is the Lt. Colonel anyway? Shall I page Carter in my general's voice?"

Perking up, thrilled the short-tempered sergeant wouldn't be allowed to terrorize them anymore, the little boys grinned with delight. Jumping up and down on the spot, enthusiastically nodding, they demanded Jack page her instantly. Standing up and watching the instant transformation, getting a clear picture of how active the boys were, the general grinned, and thought, "Why not? I'm still technically her boss."

Talking over each other excitedly, the little boys slowly faded, overcome with the emotions of the day. As they leaned into Jack's chest, the general closed his eyes, inhaling their childish sweetness. Predictably, the rat faced little sergeant had packed the suitcases perfectly, and sensing Daniel Jackson and Cameron Mitchell had outstayed their welcome, Jack paged Carter, telling her to meet him at his truck. "Okay, airman, let's grab out stuff and make like the wind."

"Huh-huh." Cam nodded sleepily.

""K'ay." Daniel yawned like an anaconda.

Signing out and chuckling at the look of relief on everyone's faces, Jack threw a sloppy salute in General Landry's direction.

"Be seeing ya, Hank!" Jack smiled his crooked smile.

"Oh, but if I see you first, Jack!" Exchanging pleasantries, Hank waggled his bushy eyebrows at the boys, and whistling happily, wandered off to the commissary. Coffee and chocolate cake suddenly sounded very appealing to the exhausted general.

The moment the boys felt fresh air on their faces, and to the general's amazement, Dan and Cam perked up, blinking with wide-eyed excitement. Clutching hands tightly, Jack walked them into the car park, his eyes darting left to right checking for oncoming vehicles. "Okay, let's keep an eye out for the traffic." He hustled them to the parked truck and pushed them gently against its back door. "Keep still, and do not move." Waving a finger at Carter to get in, he picked the boy's up, shocked at how little they weighed.

Dumping the chattering children into newly installed booster seats, ignoring their squeals of outrage at such indignity, Jack backed out with a backseat full of kids. Checking the rear vision mirror occasionally, he struggled with the reality of it. He'd privately conceded that his life in Washington had been miserable, and while indulging in the odd liaison, he had been lonely. Alone at night in his large bed, Jack wondered if all the sacrifices he'd made had been worth it. Now, by a twist of fate, and an alien malfunction, he found himself a father again. Glancing occasionally at Dan and Cam's young faces, he felt tears spring into his eyes, grieving for what they had lost.

"It'll be okay, Carter will fix this." Sighing softly, Jack flinched as Sam bumped his shoulder.

"Oops, sorry, sir!"

"Carter, its okay. Glad to have you on board."

Colonel Carter wriggled comfortably in the front seat, juggling the overstuffed files of her little teammates on her lap. "What will I fix sir?" she asked brightly, "if I can, I will!" Relieved to share the responsibility, and genuinely thrilled to have O'Neill back where he belonged, Sam's face lit up with a breath-taking smile. "It's good to serve with you again, General."

Arching an eyebrow and agreeing, Jack patted her arm and said, "Oh, you have no idea how good it feels, Carter."

Nodding her head agreeably, Sam took a candy bar from her pocket and broke it in half. Turning around to face the excited boys and wagging her finger, she warned, "Now you hooligans do not get this candy all over those new shirts." With one eye on the road and one on her, Jack snorted, complaining loudly, "Hey, don't worry about the Howdy Doody shirts, don't get that damn chocolate on the seats."

Sam tactfully ignored him, and continued to chatter cheerfully, filling the general in with all the must know gossip at the SGC. Patting her shirt and finding the second treat, she snapped it roughly and handed O'Neill the smaller portion. Looking at her and arching an eyebrow, Jack muttered, "That your idea of a mathematical equation, Colonel?"

Hearing the boys' infectious giggles and smiling sweetly, she played along with the game. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught the boys glances and said, "Eyes on the road, sir; we have precious cargo."

If the general had any concerns that the boys would struggle to accept him in their new lives, he was happily mistaken. Pulling into the driveway, the small boys squealed with delight and strained at their seat belts, demanding to be let out. Jumping out of the truck, they bolted to the front door, bouncing like excitable puppies. Running in circles, they called for Jack to hurry up and come open the door.

The constraints of living at the SGC had been very hard for the small boys, and seeing the large house with its trees and play equipment over awed them. "O-okayy, let's not make the neighbors lose the will to live just yet." Grinning at Carter's strangled cough, he led the children inside. Throwing the keys on the hall table, he clapped his hands together and said, "Bedrooms first, I think, airmen." Taking Dan and Cam by their hands, Jack showed them their newly decorated rooms. Listening to the inevitable argument of who had the better quarters, Jack firmly closed any forthcoming discussion. "Did I say this was up for debate?" Directing one boy to the sailboat room and the other to the train room, the general warned them to behave. "This is a done deal, stash your gear."

Walking into the kitchen making fresh coffee, Sam rolled her eyes as she listened to the general end the conversation. Banging down a cup, she wondered why the little boys wouldn't listen to her like that. Dumping in an extra sugar and brooding over the unfairness, she knew she would have put up with another hour of tantrums. Asking Jack later, he had looked at her with a crooked smile on his face and said." I never just threaten Carter. You know it and so do the boys."

The bedrooms had been decorated with the sole purpose of being kid friendly. Jack had ordered them to be stuffed full of toys and colorful cupboards. Posters adorned the walls, and brightly colored handles were on every cupboard. Instructing them to unpack their gear and put everything away tidily, Jack had wandered back to a grade-one disaster. Tidying and neatness were not the boys' strong points. Leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed and directing traffic, Jack taught his little boys how to place their things inside drawers and not all over the furnishings

Bedtime and eating were also challenges for the new family. Tolerating several days of tears and tantrums, they sat down to a family discussion and came up with a workable truce. Jack favored the reward system, and on the fridge in bold writing, the children could read their daily chores and see how many stars they accumulated for their weekly treat. If they didn't straighten up and fly straight, they wouldn't get the weekend treat. Simple and very effective.

As an older father, Jack was very easy going in many things. Mostly amused by their antics, he didn't sweat the little stuff. That didn't mean he didn't expect good manners and polite children. He demanded they show due respect to their elders, and told them that cheeky children would be swiftly dealt with. Watching their faces cloud with confusion, Jack firmly explained that there would be no negotiation with this. Standing the boys in front of his knees, he stressed that in this house, poor behavior would always result in negative consequences. Every action had a consequence, and it was up to them if it would be good or…not so good.

Herding them even closer, their hands held gently, Jack explained he'd only ever count to three. Raising an eyebrow at the dramatic huff and eye roll he received from Cam, he added if they didn't stop the poor behavior, then trouble would find them quickly. Poking Cammie in the tummy, he warned, "Understand me, kids?"

Wriggling away from their new parent and looking at each other warily, the little boys scowled. They weren't happy with any of this. They had done as they pleased at the SGC and had gotten used to having things go their way. Folding their arms and tapping their feet, the boys shook their heads firmly. "Nuh-huh, that's icky!" Standing side by side, brothers in solidarity, and inconveniently in front of Jack's hockey game, Daniel and Cameron proceeded to explain their ideas of discipline.

Daniel played his negotiators card first. "Can't you just discuss things with us man-to-man? We promise not to talk over you. Write us a letter and we'll read it real careful." Daniel was determined to have the counting to three idea canned.

Cam was more forthcoming in his opinions. A born leader, he tapped Jack on the shoulder, explaining his ideas sucked. "How 'bout we decide if we're naughty? That way, you won' haf to worry!"

Jack had to admire their optimism. Turning them around and directing them towards the door, Jack shook his head and told them he didn't think that would work. Patting their jean clad bottoms; he informed them they had their first and last warning for the day.

Cameron had taken Daniel by the hand and marched him into his bedroom for a war meeting. "Tactics, Daniel, we need tactics! You spell and s'plain betta, so I'm the gen'ral and you're the pres'd'nt." Crossing his eyes at the ridiculous analogy, and grabbing his box of crayons, Daniel said, "I have a bad feeling about this, Cam. Jack doesn't like being told what to do."

Lying on Daniel's bed, surrounded by their toys, the little boys laboriously went over their long list of complaints and demands. Cameron strutted around the room, hands clasped behind his back, dictating terms of daddy surrender. Using the scattered memories of leadership, Cam's terms were absolute. There could be no prisoners in this particular war of words.

One-two-three.

Daniel wrote down every demand Cam made, and with a great sigh, shook his head. A smarter little boy, Danny knew this day's work could only end poorly. On the top of the crumpled page, Danny wrote in bold red crayon,"Skyalegabble toenails." Marching hand in hand into the lounge room, General Cameron and his reluctant president eyed their new daddy carefully.

"Jack?"

"Boys?"

General Cameron edged forward, and snapping his fingers, demanded Jack grant them an immediate audience. Jumping back into the cagier Daniel, Cameron felt his bravado melt a little. Astonished how smartly the big general had smacked his bottom, he bit back a little cry and added politely, "Please, Jack, can we tell you 'bout the treaty?"

Sighing, and trying to see the game around his mutineers, Jack rolled his eyes, and took the offered piece of paper. Crossing his long legs and flicking the paper several times, Jack cleared his throat. Reading the list several times, and trying to decipher any of it, the general shook his head. Pointing to the top and obviously most important word, he asked with mock sternness, "Do you boy's mean psychological torture?"

Nodding their heads in unison, Dan and Cam demanded to know if the general would acquiesce to their demands. Pushing the little bodies clear of the screen, Jack looked at them carefully. Grinning, making a whirling sign in the air with his finger and pointing to the door, he mouthed, "One."

The general and the reluctant president took the offered list and scampered out the door. Looking at each other and sighing with regret, Daniel and Cameron were wiser and worldlier than before.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Series: Dan & Cam

Series: Dan & Cam.  
Title: New Start. Pt 3#  
Author: Amberfly  
Warnings: None.  
Feedback. Yes, please.  
Disclaimer: Not mine.

It had been a long, exhausting week, and Jack left the boys to their own devices while he busied himself with the ever-increasing household chores.

Finishing their breakfast and reluctantly tiding the toy room, the two boys trailed outside for some sun and fresh air. Awakened far too early by blackbirds squabbling in the trees outside his window, Dan and Cam were beginning to grate on the yawning general's nerves. Briefly thinking but deciding shelling the local wildlife might upset his elderly neighbors; he gazed out of the window, wondering if he needed firewood. Lots and lots of firewood.

Sitting at the table and drinking his coffee, Jack winced as the boys grew rowdier and rowdier, taking childish delight in needling each other. Putting up with the squeals and yips and deciding they needed to run off some pent-up energy, Jack ordered them to finish up and then leave the table. "Oh, for cryin' out loud! Enough already! That's it. Get those little butts of yours outside, if you want to torment someone, torment those soon to be evicted, birds!"

Looks of confusion crossed the warring children's' faces and they looked suspiciously at their fed up parent.

"Huh?" Daniel narrowed his eyes, suspecting a ruse to have them play outside.

"Huh?" Cam wasn't sure if the word torment was a good or bad thing. Lurching forward, he kicked at Daniel's shin. "Danny, wotshemean?"

"Aht-aht," Jack added crossly, leaning across the table and grabbing Cam's sticky hand in his. "Hey! What did I just say? Kick Danny again and there will be trouble, understand me airman? "Watching the smug look flick across Daniel's face, Jack raised his head slightly, and waving his teaspoon under the boy's nose, added, "and you… eat faster."

Bored children meant mischief, and Jack O'Neill was far too canny to fall for any of their time wasting tricks. Hustling them outside as soon as possible, Daniel and Cameron looked around the back yard and then at each other huffing with exasperation. With a gaze at the old apple tree, a plan began to emerge.

Jack watched the little boys trail out of the kitchen with an amused shake of his head, and rose from the kitchen table. Checking his watch, he wondered where the morning had gone. Hearing peals of childish laughter followed by the slamming of the screen door, he smiled and picked up the empty cereal bowls. Leaning down and peering under the table, he made a mental note to sweep the floor." How is it possible", he thought," to cram so much in their mouths but still spill all this?" Plopping the dishes into the dishwasher and turning it on, Jack grabbed the broom with a sigh. "Hi-ho-hi-ho, it's off to work I go."

It hadn't taken long before the lure of the television and the sofa became too much for the couch potatoes. A plaintive cry came from the backyard, and re-filling the coffee pot, Jack snorted softly. "Oh, please! It's been what? Five minutes?"

"J-ja-ckk? Can we come in now? We've been outsides for ages and Captain Fantastic is on! Can we? Dad-de-eee?" The boys were most insistent and in perfect tandem, managed to have whining down to an art form.

With eyebrows waggling with disbelief, Jack busied himself while pointedly ignoring the pathetic cries of his children. Stashing cereal packets and sugar back into the larder, he called out reminding them they had better start to straighten up and fly straight. Flicking the cupboard door shut with his elbow, the general grabbed a chair and gave the morning paper a good shake. Crossing his long legs, Jack sighed, and read the worlds news in relative peace and quiet.

Hearing the decidedly negative response, the little boys huffed and looked around, surveying their yard. Grabbing each other's hands and scampering off, Dan and Cam grumbled at life's many injustices.

Their idea of Saturday morning fun meant watching cartoons until noon.

Jack's idea of Saturday morning fun meant small, freckled faced children outside and playing. For as long as he could swing it.

Wandering down to the basement with a full laundry basket, Jack hummed tunelessly, already thinking of his next chore. Picking up a pair of ripped shorts, he grunted with exasperation. "Oh, for crying out loud, these are brand new!" The boys were incredibly careless with their clothes, and every day the pile of washing and mending grew higher. Snorting, he wondered how Sara had coped alone. He had never been much of a househusband, but then, he acknowledged, he was rarely home. With a guilty shrug, he knew he'd been more a hunter and gatherer type of man. Looking around his over-flowing utility room, he mentally saluted her.

Sorting the colored from the whites, Jack was shaken from his daydreams when he heard the sound of a high-pitched squeal, followed by a loud crash. His attention diverted to what may have caused the latest drama; he gave his head a rueful shake and climbed up the basement stairs. Giving the back door an impatient shove, he scanned his backyard, looking for any hint.

It didn't take him long to zero in on the problem: His wayward, fair-haired boys had found a way to occupy themselves. Huffing and panting, their little faces flushed with exertion, Daniel and Cameron struggled to drag an oversized deck chair closer to the forbidden apple tree. "Oh, for crying out loud, what are those little maniacs doing now?" Seeing a precariously built tower consisting of toys and deck chairs, Jack slapped at his face, his mouth slightly ajar with bewilderment.

Muttering under his breath," Why me? Why not Carter? Teal'c lives in this galaxy. Why not him? Jack grumbled and cursed as he navigated his way down the ancient backyard steps two at a time." Calling out a warning, the general took his eyes off the rickety timber steps, stubbing his toe and losing his flip-flop on the way. His arms whirling through the air windmill style, and to the delight of his kids, Jack took an undignified tumble. As a stab of pain shot up his leg, he struggled to regain his balance and called out loudly," A-ten-shun! Airman….freeze!"

The shaggy haired boys froze and blinked with surprise. Their mouths opening to perfect zeroes, they looked at each other and waited for further instructions.

Jack stumbled again on his remaining flip-flop, grabbed at his foot, and cursed through gritted teeth.

Daniel and Cameron heard his salty curses and slapping hands across their mouths were delighted to be privy to such grownup cussing. Seeing Jack wander into their playground, and then falling down the stairs was hilarious. Nudging the Tonka Truck out of his way, Daniel chortled happily and kept his eyes fixed on Jack. Not wanting to be left out, and thrilled the morning was turning into such great fun; Cameron jumped up and down and heckled his daddy cheekily. "Hey, Jack watch'cha doing there? Did'cha enjoy the trip?" Giggling and throwing sly looks at his partner in crime, he added, "Nuh-nuh, you said a naughty word!"

Cameron pranced around and pulled faces, doing a passable imitation of his scowling parent. "'S'okay, you're funny, Jack!" Sidling up to Danny and whispering, "Whaddya 'spose all those words mean? Cam was highly entertained. Deciding they sounded very naughty, Cammie giggled, "Again, Jack, fall down the steps again!"

Nudging his brother with his hip, Cameron grinned widely showing his half-grown teeth. Not expecting the shove, Daniel squeaked and waved his hands, "No, trip from the top of the stairs. That's way funnier!" Not completely clueless and sensing they had gone too far; the boys ducked their heads. Deciding to sing loudly and pretend not to notice their daddy's glare, the little boys danced several steps backward.

A look of uncertainty crossed their freckled faces, and the boys wisely turned their attention to their masterpiece. Cam twirled his finger into Danny's t-shirt and tugging, dragged him back, pointing to another obvious design fault .His forehead wrinkled with concentration, the littlest colonel demanded Danny pay attention and fix the ungainly fort. With an anxious nod of his head, young Doctor Jackson gave the lopsided structure a quizzical look, and decided another truck shoved in the middle would fix the problem nicely.

"There! See, Cam! Nothing a little stuffing won't help!"

"Oh, brilliant! Danny, you're the bestest archi-teck."

That morning, Jack had taken great pains to explain the old apple tree was strictly off limits. Hustling the small boys outside and pointing to the elderly tree, he rapped their heads gently with his knuckle. "Okay, airmen, listen up. You can play outside, but if you go near that apple tree there will be trouble, okay?" Watching them nod their head with beatific smile on their faces, he thought, "Ah-huh." Wagging a paternal finger in front of the nearest child's nose, he figured stressing it a little more couldn't hurt. "I mean it, do not play under it. It's old and the branches are rotten."

Seeing how monumentally useless his chat had been and throwing his hands in the air, he muttered, "Oh, for crying out loud, I turn my back for five seconds and the beavers of Colorado Springs build the Taj Mahal"

The ancient tree had borne its last fruit years ago and now presented a dangerous problem. Its branches were rotten and crashed to the ground every time the strong winds blew. Even the bickering blackbirds understood the grand old dame had passed her time. The general knew he should have the tree removed, but always sentimental, he didn't like the idea of such a grand old tree ending up in someone's fireplace.

Besides, he admitted softly to Sara one afternoon, it was achingly similar to the old tree Charlie had loved. With a ghost of a smile, he remembered the hot summer they'd built a pirates' fort. The same tree his little boy climbed and then fallen out of more times than his parents cared to remember. He looked at his hands and felt them shake, the old days always so bittersweet. Running his hands through his short, spiky hair and taking a deep breath, Jack knew this old tree had to go. Looking at the rats nest of toys and chairs, all draped with a new bed sheet, he was amazed at the boys' ingenuity. These kids couldn't work out how to hang up wet bath towels, but could manage to build this extravagant fort.

Danny and Cam watched as their dad inspected their fort, and wondered if they were in trouble. Eyes downcast and kicking at the grass, they knew they had disobeyed him. They didn't mean to, but that old tree lured them like bees to honeycomb.

Jack narrowed his eyes, placed his hands on his hips, and demanded an explanation. He didn't really need one, though; he knew exactly what the attraction was: danger, height, and parental disapproval made the tree an irresistible challenge. To be fair, he thought, Charlie never listened to his warnings. Shaking his head, he watched Daniel and Cameron's boyish vitality and knew with a certainty that neither would they.

Deciding to talk at once, anxious to explain that the tree tricked them into playing near it, they little boys saw the amused twinkle in Jack's eyes. Crashing into his legs and looking up into his face, they talked about how hard they had been working. "It was real tricky, Jack," Daniel breathed excitedly. "We nearly had to call out to you for help."

"That a fact?"

"Yep, but Cam said you were busy doing nothing, so we left you alone."

"Thank you, Cameron, what a thoughtful little boy you are."

Me, too, Jack, I said you weren't doing anything either."

Cameron darted back and hauled himself up, expertly scaling the lopsided chairs. "Look it, Jack," he breathed," its real solid."

Seeing the hideous structure sway back and forth like a drunken sailor complete with groans and moans, Jack choked. "Cameron, do not even think about climbing that thing! " Reaching the jean clad little butt in three long strides; Jack expertly swung the small boy onto his hip. "What did I just say? Do you think I talk just to hear my own voice?" Shaking his head at his shrugging child, he waggled his finger at the impudent little face.

Grinning back at him and impulsively throwing his arms around his neck, Cameron chortled, "I dun' no? Do you, Jack?"

Poking the giggling boy in his potbelly, the general growled with mock sternness, "Do not make me court martial you, peanut. Do something that does not include climbing or falling out of old apple trees. If you can't think of anything, then I will find you a chore, okay?"

Wriggling his bottom to get more comfortable and patting Jack's face, the unrepentant little colonel cupped his hand and whispered that he might find something to do I only he wasn't so darn hungry. "Cookies will proba'lee help my brain fink."

Jack grinned at the cunning little boy. "Is that so? A cookie, huh? Well, that could be arranged, I guess." Looking down his nose at his other child, he added pleasantly, "How about you then Danny-boy? Think a chocolate chip will help?"

A mutinous scowl crossed Danny's face, and he toed the ground in annoyance. He wasn't so sure about cookies; he felt his brother had caved far too easily. Folding his arms across his chest, he refused to sanction any thoughts of such blatant bribery. Throwing an irritated glare at his brother, Daniel looked at Jack and with bravado said boldly, "I don't need cookies! Even if they are chocolate chip! Cam can eat but I'm too busy. Is it okay if I just get on with it?" With a huff, Daniel blinked hopefully. Barreling past Jack and his shocked brother, Danny picked up another truck to help prop up the leaning tower of O'Neill.

Jack plucked the toy from the little boy's hand and swiftly put a stop to the rebellion. "I'll take that! Have you listened to a word I said? Now, we discussed the tree this morning, didn't we? Remember what I told you? No? Okay then, how about if I sit you quietly in the kitchen facing the corner for ten minutes... think that might jog your memory?"

Daniel hung his head, looking at an ant trail with interest, gave his head a tiny shake, and mumbled he might have remembered something about an apple tree.

Throwing himself onto the ground, Daniel lay on his on his belly, hands propping up his chin, and swinging his legs back and forth. Chewing his lip thoughtfully, his face was a mask of concentration. Muttering under his breath, he was determined not to have his glorious morning ruined by any unpleasant timeouts. Twisting around at Jack's gentle reminder, "Ahem, Daniel Jackson? Use your words, please!" the little archeologist come construction worker, replied in a small voice, "Okay, Jack. No apple tree, I get it." Seeing Cam still comfortably perched, Danny's face crinkled into a mischievous grin. With the vision of the young, he'd forgotten his annoyance and grabbed at a new opportunity. Waggling an eyebrow and grabbing at his brothers grubby foot, he urged, "Come on; let's find another tree for our fort."

"Yeah! This'll be even betta!" Cam grinned, excitement shining on his face.

"Course! " Matching smile for smile, Daniel beamed.

Dumping the instantly squirming little boy onto to his feet, the general threw his hands in the air, and making a quick decision, walked over to the dripping tap to fill up a bucket. After the boys' last construction attempt, he decided it might be prudent to watch the would-be mountaineers with more diligence. Looking at his dusty truck, and sighing, he figured he could supervise the kids and wash it. Muttering to the lazy, fat-bellied cat sunning itself on the ground, he leant down and tickled its ear, lecturing, "Multi tasking Puss, multi tasking."

Hearing another round of boisterous laughs, he turned around and pointed a dripping sponge in the direction of the miscreants. Accidentally holding the soapy mess over Puss, he warned, "Remember, ice-cream is a privilege that can be taken away if little boys continue to ignore their daddy." Splashing the sponge onto the bonnet, Jack laughed silently at the look of shock crossing Dan and Cam's freckled faces. Muttering an apology to the drenched family pet he never remembered buying, he winked, and said, "Game, set, and match."

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Series: Dan & Cam

Series: Dan & Cam.  
Title: Green Stars.  
Author: Amberfly.  
Feedback. Yes, please.  
Warnings: None, kidfic.

Part 4#

Scratching his head and planting his hands on his hips, Jack scanned his empty kitchen. "Okay, this is odd. Where have they gone?" Five minutes ago, the noise generating from this one small room forced him to stop what he was doing and investigate. The sounds of squeals and raucous laughter had echoed throughout the house, and wincing, he called out several times for the kids to settle down. Jack recognized the unmistakable sounds of rough and tumbles, and knew the boys were stalling, hoping he'd forget about their loathed chore.

Dan and Cam were happy but rambunctious kids, and occasionally their enthusiasm resulted in tears. Hearing a chair crash and Cameron's howls of recrimination, Jack knew it was time he intervened. "Oh, for cryin' out loud, what now?" Striding down the stairs three at a time and wondering what may have been broken, Jack felt his temper spike.

The family cat had earlier moved himself to safer ground and napped at the bottom of the stairs. Rolling onto his back, he wagged his tail in warning as Jack thundered down the stairs. Forced to jump over the fat-bellied pet, Jack shook his head and said, "Hey, Puss, give it to me straight. Does anyone listen to me in this house?"

The marmalade tomcat blinked slowly half-shutting his emerald eyes and rolled onto his feet. Stretching his spine, Puss padded silently away with an imperious flick of his tail. Watching the cat gracefully jump onto a windowsill, Jack mumbled, "Oh well, don't mind me Puss, I'll just take that as a no."

Reaching the kitchen door and giving it a bad tempered shove, Jack looked around at the cluttered table, upset chair, and arched an eyebrow. The instigators of chaos had magically disappeared. Turning off the dripping tap and shutting the fridge door, he muttered, "Smart kids: this way, they might just live to be six."

Screwing the lid back on the peanut butter jar, Jack knew the boys had scampered away somewhere. Watching as the screen door opened and then slowly shut in the summer breeze, the general peered into the backyard and smiled with satisfaction.

Daniel and Cameron were hard at work dragging paints tins from the garage and stacking them on the deck. Puffing, and pushing damp bangs from his eyes, Danny glowered at Cam, and seeing Jack standing by the backdoor, gulped and muttered, "This is all your fault, Cameron. I'll never listen to another stupid word you say."

Cameron glowered back and shoved Daniel roughly, causing him to stumble. He hissed back, "Hey, stop ya whinin' I'm in trouble too." Jumping at the sound of Jack's bark and seeing the crooked finger beckoning him, the little colonel heaved a great sigh, and trailed miserably to the backdoor.

Daniel watched Cam's shoulders slump, and with a nasty grin on his face, whispered, "Serves you right." Folding his arms, he whispered a little too loudly, "Hope it hurts."

Hearing the whispered taunt, Jack fixed Daniel with a steely look and turned his attention back to the miserable little boy standing in front of him.

"What did I say about your rough house play, young man?" Not expecting an answer and turning the little boy around, he swatted the small backside warning him to start behaving. Giving his head a quick shake and clicking his fingers at Daniel, Jack drawled, "Well, I glad something amuses you today, Daniel. How about you come up here and tell me what you said to your brother to make him push you?"

Jack watched as the two little boys hugged each other, promising not to be mean or rough to each other ever again. Sniffling and looking up at their arm-folded parent, Dan and Cam resumed the hated chore of cleaning out the garage.

"Hey, Danny, fink Sam knows we aren't going bike riding today?"

"Yeah, Dad would have called her already."

"Oh, so no pizza ee-ver?"

"Don't think so."

Turning back into the kitchen and clearing a space for himself, Jack made breakfast in comparative peace. Flicking out the paper and turning the page carefully, Jack drank his green tea and crunched hot buttered toast. Today, he decided, was already gearing up to be a better day.

8888888888

On Wednesday morning, Cam had ignored Jack's warnings and scrambled up the shelving in the kitchen larder. He ended up falling heavily, giving himself a nasty fright and a goose egg bump on his forehead. Checking the bump with gentle fingers, Jack worried about a possible concussion and decided to call Carolyn Lam.

"Carolyn? Jack O'Neill. Good, thanks. Listen, Cam fell and hit his head. No, he's conscious, but has a nasty egg on his forehead. Yep, can do, be there in ten."

Backing out the truck and glancing at the subdued little boys' faces, he shook his head and said, "Well, this is going to take a lot of explaining. I won't even bother to ask whose brilliant idea this was, but tomorrow, boys, I may not be quite so obliging."

Clutching their stuffies, the small boys sighed and sat in their booster seats in silence, hoping Jack wouldn't think of anymore uncomfortable questions. Daring a quick look at each other, Cam rubbed his head and whimpered while Daniel rolled the little green stars in his hand and gulped.

Cameron loved to climb; he was just one of those fearless and agile little kids. Spying a challenge, he forgot all his promises and happily launched himself up, over, down, or whatever it was. Once, it had been the old apple tree in the backyard. The week before that, he'd tested his dad's patience by climbing up the drainpipe, a stunt which resulted in a nasty cut, antiseptic, and a bandage.

Keeping one eye on the road and the other on the boys, Jack looked at their sad faces and pulling into Carolyn's driveway, thought, "Nope, do the crime…you do the time."

88888888

The little colonel wandered into the kitchen deliberately bumping into the fridge and watching the little magnets slowly slide. Craning his neck, he carefully read his and then Daniel's charts stamping his foot with frustration. Tracing the two green stars on his chart and sighing loudly, he wished he'd hadn't fought with Daniel so much. Chewing his lip, he wondered if hiding all his vegetables in the new couch had been such a good idea either.

Daniel already had seven stars and Cammie wondered if he'd notice if one or two went mysteriously missing and onto his. Deciding he would and probably run tales to Jack, Cameron went back to his bedroom, picked up his new yo-yo, and thought very carefully. "Rats! I hafta to fink of somethin' fast!" Drumming his tiny fingers, the young lieutenant colonel searched his brain for that foolproof plan.

Daniel wandered in and dropped onto the unmade bed. "Hey, you'd better make this before daddy sees or you won't get a star." Frowning and leaning across, Daniel warned his brother, "It's Wednesday, Cam, and you need another five stars!"

Cam was beginning to feel a little frantic. Saturday afternoon was around the corner, but his chart sadly lacked green stars. Daniel chortled at his brother's dilemma, and poking out his tongue, gloated that he already earned enough. Narrowing his eyes at the smirking face of his brother, Cam snapped, "Oh, right, that's cos you're a rock-dweeb!" Wrestling Danny to the ground and forcing him to say "uncle," Cameron stormed off to look at his chart again, hoping he misread it. Bouncing after him and rubbing his wrists, Danny reminded him that he needed more stars or he would be spending the day with Doctor Lam.

In their house, good behavior and poor behavior had their consequences. Poor behavior meant a time out, an early bedtime, or worse, a smacked bottom. Good behavior meant a green star on their charts. Jack promised if they got seven green stars then they could pick the family's treat for the weekend. The little colonel desperately wanted to go bike riding with everyone on Saturday, but his chart was sadly bare.

The boys usually spent all week discussing what they would choose. Pizza at Giuseppe's and then bike riding in the park were particular favorites. Sam or Sara often joined in with the little family and Daniel and Cameron couldn't wait. Jack's rules were absolute, however: if the stars weren't earned, then the Saturday treat wouldn't happen. No amount of crocodile tears or extravagant promises of good behavior changed his mind, and the boys had learnt this lesson very quickly.

Daniel was a well-behaved, loving child and tried to keep out of trouble and earn his reward.

Cameron was a loving, tactile, affectionate child also, but his idea of staying out of trouble needed fine-tuning.

Not playing favorites and taking care never to compare one child to the other, Jack would look at the chart and arch an eyebrow knowingly. "Mm, young Cameron, unless you change your ways, looks like you might need a sitter." Tears and heart-breaking sobs always accompanied the child dropped off at Carolyn's, and despite showing the upset little boy sympathy, Jack stuck to the house rules.

The green stars were tucked away in Jack's den drawer, and Cam was determined to get them. He loved pizza, he loved bike riding, but he didn't love pulling weeds with the good doctor. He might earn enough for the treat, but it was a risk he wasn't prepared to take. When Jack said he meant something, he meant it.

The idea of consequences of actions was a grey area for Cammie, and despite Daniel's warnings that Jack was no fool; the littlest colonel ignored his brother's good advice. Tapping his finger on the side of his face and walking around his bedroom, Colonel Mitchell decided he needed a covert operation. He needed a foolproof plan and that meant his 2IC, Daniel Nicholas Jackson, was required.

"Pssttt, Daniel, com' in here."

"Why?"

"Cos, I need you, com' on."

"No! You always get me into trouble, and I don't want to lose any of my stickers."

"Oh, you won't, Dad finks you're an angel! Com' on, Daniel, I've got cookies!"

"Cookies? Where did you get them? Okay, but if they're old and stinky, I'm leaving."

Daniel trailed into his brother's room, dropped onto his still unmade bed, and listened to Cam's preposterous plan. Shaking his head and glancing around the room, Daniel Jackson drew a hard bargain. "Okay, it's a dumb idea, and when Jack finds out he will kill you. Looking at his brother's most treasured possession, the little archeologist said, "If I do help, I want to borrow your Coca-Cola yo-yo."

Cameron stopped pacing. Eyes wide with shock. He stuttered, "M-my n-new yo-yo? D-Danny, you can't m-mean my Coco-Cola yo-yo. Choose something else! "

"Nun-nuh."

"What about my Ninja Turtle? Then you'd have a pair!"

"The yo-yo, Cam, for a whole week or the deal's off."

Sinking to the carpet, Cameron couldn't hear for the blood pounding in his ears. Saving his pocket money for weeks while Danny munched on candied popcorn, Cam had contented himself with the torn out picture of the yo-yo. Confiding to Sam that he was only three dollars short, she instantly offered to buy the toy. Listening to the blatant smooching, Jack shooed the little snake oil salesman out the door and warned her against manipulative flyboys. "Carter, it only costs six dollars and he's already halfway there. Now, that's why I give them their pocket money, so don't spoil 'em!"

Cameron couldn't bring himself to trade this prize and the boys negotiated for what seemed to them to be hours. Danny was no fool, and he knew if he was caught taking the stars, he would be the one in trouble. "Cam, if Jack catches me, I'll be in for it, so the prize has to be worth it." Folding his arms and looking down his nose, Daniel insisted it was the cool little yo-yo or nothing.

Throwing his hands in the air, furious with Danny for demanding his treasure, Cam pleaded and whined, but Daniel was a born negotiator. Any hope of changing Danny's mind lay in finding a better treat. A treat that he adored. Popcorn!

They had a popcorn maker in the shape of a dinosaur in the top cupboard in the kitchen pantry. When kernels were placed in its neck and the butter near its eyes, fluffy white popcorn dripping with butter spewed out its mouth. Teal'c had bought this and the boys adored it. It was a cheap treat, so anytime they watched a movie with Teal'c, he made mountains of it.

Jack had stashed it away, knowing that the temptation to use it without supervision would be too much for greedy, popcorn-addicted children. The element for the butter became red-hot, and he didn't fancy an emergency room visit.

Crossing his arms over his chest and nodding with finality, Cameron decided on a search-and-rescue mission. Grinning smugly, he convinced himself it would be easy to make Danny unlimited popcorn with hot butter. After his brother had gorged himself, he would distract Jack with something terrible--like a severed finger, maybe--and give Danny time to break into the den and borrow three green stars. Striding around the room with his hands clutched behind his butt, Cameron congratulated himself on a perfect plan.

Gingerly wiping his excitable brother's sprayed dribble from his face, Daniel thought it was worse than stupid. However, it had been awhile since he had buttered popcorn, and he really didn't want Cammie to stay with Carolyn all Saturday afternoon. It was always more fun when the whole family ate pizza and then went for the ride.

Spitting in the palm of their hands and agreeing to be partners, the little terrorists plotted and fine-tuned their ridiculous plan.

Before Danny would agree to smuggle himself into the lions' den and take the stars, he wanted the popcorn. Flexing his bandaged hand gingerly, the little colonel patiently explained the plan again. "Daniel, you hafta to reach up and then pass me the dinosaur, okay?" Seeing a look of alarm flash across Daniel's face, Cameron patted his back encouraging him, "its okay, Dan, I'll help you climb the shelves and then you can just knock the dinosaur down to me." His eyes darting back and forth and feeling very nervous, he added with false bravado, "It will work fine, Danny, trust me! Jack's outside washing the truck and thinks we are watching a DVD, so we have ages."

Nodding his head, his mouth watering at the thought of the hot buttered popcorn, Daniel agreed to trust his brother-in-arms. They dragged a chair over to the bench as quietly as possible, terrified Jack might hear and investigate. "Oh, Dan! What was that noise? Is that Dad?" Holding their breath, the kids froze, expecting to see Jack walk through the door and expose their brilliant plan. Breathing a sigh of relief and looking at each other, Cam counted, "One-two-three, now jump!" They clambered up onto the bench and stood side-by-side, holding hands for courage. Daniel turned around and whispered into Cam's ear, "This is a bad idea. Didn't Jack say you'd be in big trouble if you climbed anymore? I think this is a mistake. Just be good and then you can go riding next week."

Not interested in Danny's words of reason and shaking his shaggy little head, Cam craned his neck and gazed up at the high shelves, whispering, "Nah-huh, if you're going on Saturday, then so is I." Knuckling his brother on his arm, the little colonel warned, "Hey, don't forget, I can court mallow you."

Danny wasn't listening to Cameron anymore; the blood pumped too loudly in his ears and his heart thumped with fear. He'd never liked heights and worried Jack would catch them. Chewing at his lip, he watched the back door nervously. "Cam, listen to me. What if Daddy comes in and sees us on the bench? We will really get it."

Waving his hand in the air and dismissing Danny's fears, Colonel Mitchell counted the shelves expertly. "Huh? Don't be scared, Dad will take forever to clean his truck; remember; you split soda in it yesterday."

"Hey, you shoved me!"

"Didn't."

"Did!"

Furious and feeling dizzy, Doctor Jackson had enough, and dropping to all fours, scooted to the edge of the bench. Narrowing his eyes, he hissed at his brother, "No I didn't! This is a stupid plan, and I'm not climbing any dumb shelf. Get your own stickers!" Backing up and carefully climbing back onto the chair, Danny jumped to the floor, sighed, looked up at his brother, scowled, and scampered away.

Watching Danny desert him and picking at the raggedy bandage on his sore hand, Cameron decided it was up to him to execute the daring plan. Grumbling about stinky brothers, he stood up and reached over to the cupboard. Stretching out his hand and wriggling his fingers, he forced himself to ignore the pinch of the healing scab. Jumping nimbly onto the first shelf, he steadily climbed… shelf-by-shelf.

The little pink and grey dinosaur was stored up the top, and reaching out his arms, Cameron almost touched it. With his little face wrinkled in concentration, he batted at the popcorn maker and saw it topple towards him. "Ah, gotcha! Danny will have to get my stars now!"

Daniel had calmed down, and with his panic under control, experienced an uncomfortable pang of guilt. Grumbling under his breath, he reluctantly returned to the kitchen and to the scene of the crime.

He had been very busy himself. He figured Cam would somehow get the popcorn maker, and he wanted to have the swap ready. Creeping into Jack's den and turning on his bankers' lamp, Danny carefully opened the top drawer and fingered the pad of green and gold stamps. "Dad won't know. He's too busy doing the washing and making our beds to keep count of our stars. I'll just take three, and put the rest back." Peeling of the stickers and sticking them onto his hand, Daniel ran out the door, his face flushed pink.

Danny was normally a well-behaved little boy, and he knew the difference between right and wrong. Leaving his own crime scene, he agonized over what his dad would think about his theft. Running back to the kitchen and watching the back door, he hissed, "Come on, Cammie, Jack will be here any minute now!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming, don't rush me!"

"Well, come faster! Jack will see his drawers are open and he'll know I took something!"

"Why didn't you shut them?

"Oh, right, good thinking."

Tucking the dinosaur under his arm and looking down at Daniel, Cam lost his footing and flailed for anything to slow his plummet. Letting go of the dinosaur and hearing it crash to the ground with a loud crack, the little colonel knew the mission was a bust.

His bare feet knocked the groceries, upsetting the various cans and boxes. Grocery item after grocery item tumbled to the floor, splitting and spilling. The spice jars bounced off the shelf and skittered across the kitchen floor, thyme and turmeric merging in an aromatic mess. A kitschy, plastic tomato Tupperware container lost its green hat and bled its red sauce into the rice flour.

Trying his best, Cam couldn't steady himself and fell heavily onto his bottom, jarring his tailbone. Jumping up and bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands clutching his bottom, he burst into howls of pain. "Ow, I've broken my butt." Turning around to inspect the damage, he slipped in the spilt sauce and skidded, cracking his forehead on the table's turned leg.

Daniel looked at the mess, looked at the instigator of this disaster, and felt dizzy.

Knowing time was running out and seeing Cam was no longer capable of carrying out the mission, Daniel leapt into action. Desperately trying to clean the mess up before they were discovered, Danny stuck the little green stickers to his forehead and chased the rolling cans around the kitchen.

Hearing the crashing sounds of both child and cans, Jack came running into the kitchen. The two-star, combat-weary general looked around his kitchen with disbelief. General Jack O'Neill didn't know which catastrophe to address first, but he figured the child with green stickers all over his face could wait.

"There will be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, won't there boys? Are those stickers all over your face, Daniel? Where did you get them? Not my den, I hope."

Scooping Cam off the floor and placing him carefully on the bench, Jack gently touched the livid bruise on his head. "Anything else hurt? Give me your hand, does this hurt?" Carefully testing the tiny hands and wrists eventually satisfied nothing was broken; he picked his way through the mess and opened the fridge for an ice pack. Spearing a look at the little archaeologist trying to edge his way out of the kitchen, Jack grabbed his collar, holding the wriggling little boy firmly.

"Daniel, where ya going? "

"Nowhere, Daddy."

"Cameron? Other than the egg on your head, anything else hurting?"

"Yep."

"What? Tell daddy what else hurts."

"My butt!"

"Mm. Good thing you won't need your bikes for a month, then, isn't it?"

"Huh? "

8888888888

Saturday afternoon found the president and his general dutifully cleaning out the O'Neill garage, having learnt a valuable lesson: the person with the green stars would always win the battle. Dragging another box full of garbage from the garage, Dan and Cam huffed, glared at each other, and trudged back to get some more.

TBC….


	5. Chapter 5

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan & Cam.:

Title: The Rotten Egg

Category: Kidfic.

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes, Please.

The rotten egg drama unfolded like rose bud on a spring day. Pity about those pesky aphids sucking its life out.

The Previous Week.

The previous week had been a rollercoaster ride for the O'Neill boys. In their house, good behavior was rewarded… or not. Jack was an older daddy, and with years of experience came certain calmness. He didn't sweat the small stuff, and maintained a humorous outlook on the finer art of child rearing. Discarding the child psychology books given to him by well meaning friends, Jack did what he did best. If he wasn't sure of the rules, he simply made up his own. A skill he fine-tuned at Stargate Command when escaping irritable Jaffa on tree-infested planets.

Considered easy going and being a soft touch were vastly different though, and Daniel and Cameron quickly learned to differentiate. Manners were expected, and respect for themselves and each other demanded. Dealing with smart-ass children without compunction, Jack laid strong foundations.

The boys knew they could tell him anything, no matter how hideous, as along as it was the truth. Lying, tattling, teasing meant a one-way trip to an early bedtime. Good natured and loving, and providing Jack chose to ignore the odd catastrophe, the lessons were far and few between. Charming as men, Daniel and Cameron were charming as children.

Rewarded for their good behavior, Jack placed iridescent green stars on charts stuck proudly to the fridge door. If the children managed to earn seven stars in a row, then they could choose the family day treat. Pizza, bike riding, and fishing, were all hotly debated as the best treat imaginable. However, rules were rules, and the child that didn't earn enough stars didn't go. No discussion. With a regretful rub of a head, and a kiss on the cheek, the devastated child stayed behind with their sitter.

Jack was a man of his word, and though he hated to disappoint the children, there were clear boundaries. With good behavior came treats, but with poor behavior came consequences.

As far as the boys were concerned, the family rules were non-negotiable. Putting themselves in harm's way topped his list, and Jack wouldn't tolerate any foolishness. Leaving the yard on their new bicycles without telling their daddy earned smacked bottoms and no wheels for a week. Climbing on garden sheds and scuttling across its roof meant no dessert for a week. Logging onto highly inappropriate websites in the name of research meant no computer time for a spell. The rules were clear and unbendable.

Sneaking into Jack's old garden shed was another one of those non-negotiable family rules. It was his last bastion of peace and quiet, and strictly off limits to small children. It housed old cans of paints, various pesticides, and chemicals. The old fridge rattled and wheezed in the corner, its door bolted with a padlock. Tools of various designs were hung carefully on the shed wall, sharp and tantalizingly dangerous. Drinking a beer and fiddling with fishing lures, Jack would spend happy hours there, and to anyone who cared to ask, he would cheerfully admit that he truly loved this old shed. However, not as much as the well-being of his children.

If the shed became a problem, he would have removed it in a heartbeat and replaced with a shiny, new monster. On occasion, he would glance sadly at the old shed with its rickety blue doors, and hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Repeatedly, he sat down and calmly informed the boys that the shed was not to be used as a playroom. Jack didn't bother elaborating. He expected to be obeyed. The more he talked though, the more Cammie fell in love with the idea of a secret place. No foxhole could have been better planned. The shed was dark, quiet, and had the dubious charm of smelling like mice.

The other non-negotiable family rule was respecting tools of trade. Jack was still an Air Force general and working from home meant his home office was strictly off limits. His laptop was not to be used by sticky fingers other than his own, and so he didn't load the excellent children block programs. He expected the boys to so as they were told.

But, in the end. Boys will be boys.

Edging towards the forbidden wooden doors, with the blue peeling paint, Cameron peered through the window with awe. This, he foolishly decided, was the best playroom of all. There were places for treasures that only he would know about, and he schemed to make it his own.

Daniel had enough smarts spinning around in his brain to remember how to navigate his way around various programs. The carefully loaded safe guards drove him to distraction, and disenabling them meant time facing the kitchen wall. Jack's laptop had no such irritating blocks, and therefore Daniel coveted the forbidden computer.

Like the call of the wild, Cameron was inexplicably drawn towards the shed and Daniel to the laptop. Clumsy in their efforts to trick the canny General, they suffered the consequences with good grace. If his bike were confiscated, Cam played in the sandpit, ice cream off the menu, and Dan hoarded cookies. The cancellation of family day was the only punishment that caused them angst, and Jack played the card sparingly. He loved the outings with Sara or Carter in tow, and he wanted the boys to have a real sense of family. However, Jack O'Neill was nothing if not true to his word, and when he discovered Cam on the shed roof, trying to climb in, and Danny tapping away on his laptop, he canceled Sunday's treat and closed the discussion.

When Sunday morning dawned, the little boys looked out of their window and saw blue sky and sunshine. Glancing at each other, they wondered if their daddy had remembered their past indiscretions. Assured at the breakfast table that he hadn't lost his memory and pizza and the bike ride were still canceled, the boys were devastated.

Morosely tapping his boiled egg with his spoon, Cameron had a brilliant idea. This time, he swore to himself, his plan would be fail proof. Excusing himself and dragging Daniel by his arm, Cam pulled his brother into his room, his eyes flashing with mischief. "Danny," he breathed shiftily," remember my mission the other day? Egg? Rotten? Shed?" Resisting the urge to give his blank faced brother a noogie, he continued sweetly," Well, how about you help me get it and we'll use it to cause a diversion! You know a stink bomb!"

Daniel put down the yo-yo he'd been considering borrowing, and looked into Cameron's grinning face with disbelief. "What are you talking about? What mission? How will a stink bomb make Daddy change his mind about family day? We're grounded, end of discussion!" Rolling onto Cam's unmade bed, Danny's memory kicked in, and with eyes rounded, he said, "Oh, you mean Mrs. Grabowski's egg? The one you were supposed to throw away?"

"Yup."

"Remind me, and don't leave out the bits that will get us killed."

Taking a deep breath, Cameron went for gold and explained his brilliance again. But, this time, he had a more receptive audience.

Earlier that week, eager to earn extra pocket money, Cammie offered to cart groceries inside for their elderly neighbor. Chatting amiably and mooching toffees, he came upon a treasure better than all the jewels in the ground. Putting away the groceries, Mrs. Grabowski had dived into the back of the fridge, pulling out a shabby old egg carton. Opening the lid gingerly, and screwing up her face, she clucked her tongue at the one ancient egg still in it. Mumbling under her breath at such wastefulness, she asked Cam to throw the rotten egg in the garbage pails outside. "Oh, dear! Look at the expiration date! This egg is a real stinker! Into the garbage it goes.'

Suspicious at the sudden look of joy crossing Cam's freckled face, Mrs. Grabowski checked the expiration date once more and sighed. Narrowing her eyes, she rapped Cam's head with her arthritic knuckle and warned, "Now, don't you think of throwing that stinky ole egg at that cute brother of yours! Elderly and forgetful, she wandered upstairs and Cameron bolted outside, egg carton firmly in hand. The little boy politely left a scrawled note thanking her for the excellent toffee and flat soda. Tacked on the end of the letter, he had thoughtfully added he was owed one dollars and fifty cents. The fifty cents being for the week before.

Scooting into his backyard, stolen egg carton in hand, Cameron's heart pounded. This was a treasure of monumental value and it had literally fallen into his grubby little hands. The egg was too good to throw out, but the problem he faced was where to stash it. Thinking of the chaos he could cause with a well-aimed lob, he scanned the yard with an expert eye. "What to do, what to do," he agonized, when another gift fell into his lap.

His dad had just walked out of the shed, shed, fishing tackle in hand, and clearly distracted. A light bulb exploded in Cam's brain, and tracking his daddy safely into the garage, he waited for the perfect time to make his move. Lips beading with sweat, the little colonel bolted into the opened shed and quickly stashed the egg carton on the shelf next to the old fridge. Praying to the saint of covert operatives, Cam flattened himself and flew across the grass, up the back stairs and into the kitchen. Mission completed and successful.

With his heart still pounding, Cam wanted to boast about his brilliance, and raced upstairs to find his brother. Throwing himself onto the bed, he told Danny all about his latest mission. Looking up from his comic and shaking his head, Danny cried, "Are you nuts? You left a rotten egg in a hot shed? Why?" Huffing with exasperation, Daniel wanted his peace and quiet, and he muttered, "Go away! I don't want to know."

Disinterested, Danny only half listened to Cameron's boasting and instantly forgot all about it.

Now, with Sunday being so perfect, and the taste of pizza on his mind, Daniel threw caution to the wind. A small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, he thought about the bad egg festering in the shed a little more. Scooting up to his brother and throwing his arm around his shoulder, he demanded to know more of Cam's plan. "Now, this had better be good." Scowling, the memory of the green stamp caper always caused his ears to redden.

"It's really quite simple, Daniel," the little fly-boy said pompously. "The egg is rotten right?" Nudging his brother sharply in the ribs demanding an answer, Danny winced, and moving away, nodded his head. Satisfied he had a captured audience; Cam explained that if they left the egg in a paper bag by the front door, and their dad trod on it, then the stink would be practically fatal. "See! How can this fail?" he urged, "its simple military tactics. Stink bombs, claymores, what's the difference?" Folding his arms over his chest, a smug look settled on his face, he added, "Your job will be to make sure Dad wears flip-flops, so the egg squishes between his toes!"

Shaking his head, irritated that he'd even thought the plan would be better than appalling; Daniel began to hear familiar warning bells clanging in his brain. "I don't know, Cam, how are you going to get into the shed? There's a padlock on it, don't forget. Flip-flops? Why would Daddy be wearing flip-flops?" The best plan in the world appeared flawed, and Danny wished he'd never listened.

Cameron sensed a cooling of the troops, and wrapping his arm around Daniel's shoulder, allowing his fingers to dig into the soft flesh, he hissed, "All for one and one for all, Dan. I can't think of everything, and I'm doing the dangerous bit! Just hide his shoes, easy!" His voice taking on a slightly threatening tone and not wanting to be wrestled to the floor, Daniel nodded his head albeit reluctantly.

In the kitchen, Jack began to stack the dishes and put away the milk. Gazing through the window, he sighed with regret. The day would have been perfect for a ride in the park, followed by pizza at the kid's favorite restaurant. Sending Dan and Cam upstairs to do their chores, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. It had been a long week, and their disobedience had irritated him. The computer and the shed were off limits, and now, they all had to spend a perfect summer's day inside.

He'd spoken to Sara already and canceled the day's treat, and with a disappointed sigh, she'd promised to contact Giuseppes. Walking into the family room and grabbing the remote, he muttered, "Knuckle heads, why can't you leave the shed and that damn computer alone." Opening his beer, he knew where he'd rather spend the day. The thought of missing the family outing with Sara hurt him as much as it hurt the boys.

8888888888888

In a brief moment of insanity, the boys had believed that this plan was the answer to the enforced Sunday boredom. Going into the shed to retrieve the egg would be fraught with dangers, and parental indignation loomed as a direct possibility. However, the egg needed retrieving and a scheme was schemed. Despite being sent to straighten their rooms, Danny snuck into Cam's room, and lay on his bed eating cookies, and brainstorming.

An obedient and well-mannered little boy, Daniel tried his best to remain trouble free and keep his ice cream bowl full. Cameron tried his best to stay out of trouble by wriggling out of retribution. Living by a different scale of what constituted good behavior, the boys never agreed on much. The more Cam tried to coerce Dan into his way of thinking, the more convoluted the plan became. Lowering his voice, his eyes darting shiftily towards the shut door, Cameron explained the foolproof plan again, as if to a simpleton. All their daddy needed to do was lose a million brain cells. He would answer the doorbell, and step on the bad egg. The egg would crack, permeate the living room and force them to beat a tactical retreat.

Finally and against his better judgment, the little diplomat agreed to act as a decoy and scout. Rolling his eyes and agreeing to breaking his leg if need be, he listened to his role again. He needed to do whatever it took to ensure Cam had enough time to slip into the locked shed, grab the egg and get out again. Cam would then plant the egg on the doorstep and Daniel had to make sure Jack wore his flip-flops and not boots.

"So, Birdbrain, you expect me to hide all of daddy's shoes where?"

"Your job, soldier, don't get caught by the insurgents."

Resigned to another disaster, Danny trailed miserably after his brother, crept through the kitchen and outside into the beautiful, Sunday afternoon. Trying for one last piece of sanity, he begged, "Cameron, listen to me, this will never work! Come on, let's go back upstairs, Daddy will play with us after the game, we just hafta to clean our rooms."

"Nope, its pizza and sunshine for me."

Heaving a great sigh and expecting the worst, Daniel reluctantly took point.

In a fever of excitement, Cameron scuttled towards the shed with high hopes.

Bravado leaving him and good sense taking over, Daniel watched as his brother edged closer and closer to the forbidden shed doors. The summer breeze ruffled his hair, and shutting his eyes, Danny spread his arms out as though he could catch the wind and fly away. It was the perfect summer's day to go bike riding, but he knew their naughtiness during the week had put the kibosh on that. Cupping his mouth with his hand, he urged his reckless brother to think before he acted. Somewhat of a new concept for the little colonel. "Cam! Come back! Daddy will kill you!" he cried, but the small flyboy wasn't listening.

With a mental shrug, the little archeologist renewed his efforts to capture his brother's attention. "Cam-er-rron-nn," he called with a child's staged whisper, "Daddy said we aren't allowed in there without a grown-up!" Despite Danny's hands flapping in the air with frustration, Cameron would never take the good advice, no matter how sound. So he did what came naturally, he ignored his brother. Cameron's nature was as reckless as Daniel's was cautious. Glancing at the back door and expecting the worst, Daniel's face paled uncomfortably.

The shed doors were old, slightly warped, and padlocked shut. Unless Jack opened the doors, Cam had no hope of going through them. He looked at the roof and knew the window around the back was small enough to squeeze through, but getting out again would be a problem. Uncomfortable images of being stuck half in and half out of the tiny window flitted through his consciousness, but all too briefly. Sighing, he knew climbing the roof was his only hope of retrieving the egg. Getting onto the roof posed no problem for the adventurous child; Jack had deliberately built their fort in the sturdy branches of the elm and it branches shaded the shed. It was just a hop, skip and a jump from the fort, to the branch, to the roof.

Cam ran to the elm, and panting slightly, grabbed the fort ladder tightly. "Come on," he muttered, "I have to get that egg!" Turning around and pinning Daniel with a desperate stare, he smiled hopefully and made a thumbs up sign.

Climbing the ladder as quickly as he dared, occasionally glancing over his shoulder, Cam jumped into the fort and smiled with pleasure. Looking around, he groaned, and palmed his forehead with his hand. "Doh! Why didn't I just stash the egg here?" Lamenting his lack of foresight, he leaned over the railing, edged onto his favorite branch and scooted along it carefully. Taking a measured jump, the little colonel arrived on the roof of the shed unscathed as usual.

"Okay," he muttered, "all I need to do is get through that window, get the egg and then climb back out again." Gulping, he looked at the tiny window and patting his belly, wished he hadn't eaten the second slice of toast. "Right, here goes." Pushing, wriggling, groaning, and painfully scraping his hip, Cam finally made it through the window and jumped onto the workbench. "Whoa, that hurt!" Giving his hip a rueful rub, he blinked quickly.

Shards of sunlight distorted the musty smelling little shed, and Cameron's eyes took a while to adjust to the light. Dust particles flew into the air, and sneezing several times, he ran his sleeve under his nose, and sniffed. It was far darker than he remembered, and standing on the workbench, Cam scanned his surroundings. Bending his knees and landing with a heavy thud, he picked his way across the crowded floor. He wrinkled his nose with disgust as he peeled cobwebs from his jersey. "Eww," he shuddered, "Hope I don't get eaten by a tarantula."

Bumping into sharp edged boxes with a squeal. Running into sticky cobwebs with a squawk, nerves took its toll on the small boy. Coughing, he felt his head swimming, and he wished he had listened to his brother after all. Squinting in the darkness, he forced himself to stretch out his arm and pat the shelf. "Yuk," he cringed, as his hand touched something soft," where is it? Where did I put that dumb box?" Finally coming across the carton and almost crying with relief, Cam opened it carefully and caressed the top of the bad egg with a dirty fingertip. "Oh, I hope you are worth it, Mr. Stinker, I've gone to a lot of trouble for you." Closing the carton and then tucking it under his jersey, he made his way across the floor. Cam looked up at the high bench and blinked quickly with shock. The bench was far too high for a little boy to climb, and time was at a premium. "Oh, no! What else could go wrong?" he cried.

Whirling around, his eyes still not adjusted to the darkness, Cam felt a moment of blind panic. If he couldn't get onto the bench, then he couldn't get through the window. If he couldn't get through the window then he would remain trapped forever in his daddy's stinky shed, with a stinky egg. Tears stinging his eyes, nerves overwhelming him, Cam sunk to the floor and running his sleeve under his nose, sniffed with self-pity. He was doomed, and probably destined to be tarantula supper. Placing the carton on the ground and holding his head in his hands, Cameron began to cry. He wanted to be rescued and he wanted his daddy.

Out in the sunshine, the stress of waiting to be caught had become too much for the little archeologist, and with a final backward glance, he went AWOL. Creeping through the kitchen on his tiptoes, Danny slipped up the stairs, and scampered under his bed. Heaving a sigh of relief, and feeling a tiny stab of guilt for abandoning his post, Daniel hoped he'd be safe from parental retribution. Flashlight on, cookies at the ready, he opened his new comic book, oblivious to the drama that was unfolding in their backyard shed.

The game hadn't held Jack's interest for very long and daydreaming, he decided to get up and work in his shed for a while. There were fishing lures he wanted to fix, and he toyed with the idea of changing the fishing line on the boys' rods. Switching the TV off, and strolling through the kitchen, Jack jumped down the back stairs. The warm weather always made his joints feel better, and looking forward to tinkering with his fishing kit, Jack loped towards his garden shed. In a much happier mood, he decided to play basketball with the boys after he'd checked their rooms. Whistling off-key, Jack ran his hand along the top of the doorframe, and grabbing the key, unlocked the padlock.

Pulling the peeling, warped doors open and letting the daylight explode through; Jack stopped in his tracks, and stared with his mouth slight ajar. His tear stained, dejected child sat cross-legged on the dirty floor, and with his bottom lip trembling, waved a grubby little hand at him. A cobweb in his hair, dirt and tears tracking down his face, Cameron was the picture of abject misery and dejection. Folding his arms and tapping his foot, Jack enquired through gritted teeth, "Cameron, need a hand?" Reaching his hand out and pulling the frantically head-shaking child to his feet, the littlest egg rustler made his ignoble exit tucked under his daddy's arm like a football. Egg carton left on the floor of the shed for further investigation, Jack strode towards the house. Irritation oozing with every step.

8888888888888

The egg was discovered, and thrown into the trash. Biological warfare was to be avoided if possible he confided to the hysterically laughing Sara. It could have been very nasty, he complained to the poker-faced Colonel Carter. Leave me alone, he huffed to the unimpressed Jaffa.

Daniel, the fink, O'Neill, attempted to deny all knowledge of the egg caper. Forced into a confession by a single arched eyebrow, he held his head high, and followed his parent's pointed finger to the beige colored corner of the kitchen. There he sat with dignity.

Cameron, the last one is a rotten egg O'Neill's interrogation was thorough. Money returned to elderly neighbor by way of compensation, he spent the next week confined to quarters.

The End.


	6. Chapter 6

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Fleeting Happiness.

Warnings: None.

Category: Kidfic.

It was the first Christmas Eve for the O'Neill's as a family, and the boys found every instant more exciting than the last. Friends called by, and watching with bemusement as the boys crashed around the house like hand grenades, raised their eyebrows questioningly and shrugged.

With nothing but an enigmatic smile, Jack O'Neill shrugged back. All said and done, his unorthodox parenting skills suited the fledging little family. Danny and Cameron found the Christmas experience exhilarating, and flirted with calamity on a minute-by-minute basis. Blinking with surprise at finding themselves positioned on a chair facing the kitchen wall for a spell, the children heaved great sighs.

Jack patted their shaggy haired little heads and reminded them it was just until their brain cells kicked in again.

"But my brain cells are only thinking 'bout Christmas, "Cameron reasoned with the cunning of the very young, "you can 'pect them to work on not shoving Danny as well!"

Huffing crossly, Daniel chimed in, "I didn't take his crayons on purpose! They fell into my lap! Narrowing his eyes, he added hopefully," its Christmas and miracles happen all the time. Just ask Nickelodeon!"

Hearing a knock at his door, and throwing his hands in the air, Jack looked at his watch and muttered, "Oh please! It's just past ten o'clock!" Throwing the dishcloth onto the table and warning the boys to stay seated, the general wondered if placing a sign warning _Crime scene! Keep out_ could mean he would get to read the sports in peace.

Sara was the first of the visitors who felt the need to connect with the lively children. Humming Christmas tunes in her head, she brought over her homemade Christmas cake, and waited eagerly at the front door. Throwing her head back and laughing with her throaty chuckle, she found herself dragged inside, smiling with delight as the boys danced around her legs. Sara O'Neill never quite understood why, but visiting Daniel and Cameron pushed melancholy thoughts to a place where they didn't matter.

Shooing the boys away, Jack grinned at Sara boyishly. Taking the cake tin, bravely exaggerating its weight, he playfully dodged the slap to his arm, and offered her an Irish coffee. Reminiscing, they sat at his kitchen table while he offered boozy coffee and good memories. His brown eyes softening, he leaned over and allowed his lean fingers to brush her fine boned hand. Opening the cake tin and spluttering at the waft of brandy, they laughed at the amount of alcohol she had always used. Shaking his head, unable to help the familiar smile tugging at his lips, Jack scolded her gently, "Sara, for crying out loud! We'll be unconscious after the first bite!"

With a saucy look and a broad wink, she tossed her wavy hair whispering, "Mm, I seem to remember that's how we…" Getting to her feet and dumping her mug into the sink, she left the thought unfinished and sashayed from the house. "Bye, Jack, happy memories!"

With a wolfish smile, Jack watched her leave and muttered under his breath, "Oh, yeah, I so have _those_ memories."

Sitting in the car and putting the key carefully into the ignition, Sara felt a tear trickle from her eye.

Hank Landry was the next visitor to find himself at the O'Neill front door. Laden with gifts, he felt oddly light hearted. Unaware of the broad smile on his face, he knelt down and seeing the bright faces beaming at him, threw his arms open widely. The invitation understood and gladly accepted, Daniel and Cameron barreled into him, jostled, and pushed each other for front spot. Laughing and rocking back onto his heels, Hank snorted with delight, and hearing the childish giggles, couldn't help remembering days of long ago.

Slapping his hands on his thighs and waggling his bushy eyebrows, Hank chased the boys throughout the house, wincing at their screams and hollers when almost captured. Panting, red faced and out of breath, the general slumped into a kitchen chair, and studying Jack's amused face, wondered if he'd made a mistake in not adopting the little boys himself.

Shaking the thought from his head and smiling a little sadly, he grabbed the offered beer and chatted with his old friend about nothing. Patting Jack on the back and rolling a shoulder, Hank declined the invitation to spend Christmas. Walking to his Ford, he checked his cell and found a flashing message. Maybe he thought, this year she would forgive him a little.

Sitting in her parked car and watching her father check his cell, Carolyn grimaced and slid into her leather upholstery. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she waited for Hank to pull out and drive away. Pushing her car door open and walking briskly to the general's door, Doctor Lam hoped a medicinal dose of high-spirited children could unearth that elusive Christmas spirit she'd never managed to capture. Smiling at the excited freckled little faces peeking from behind the general's legs, she swiped at the lone tear tracking down her cheek, and giving Jack a watery smile, silently begged for her invitation to enter.

"Doctor Lam? Carolyn? Hey, you just missed your old man. Come in and have a drink, you look as though you could use one." Smiling, and nudging her shoulder gently, Jack looked into her face, and said, "Actually, Sara's cake will warm you up quicker than mere booze." Ushering her into the kitchen, pulling off the determined small boy clinging to her leg, Jack added softly, "What doesn't kill you, Carolyn, will always make you stronger."

Drinking coffee and eating fruitcake, Carolyn felt her tension slip away, and hauling Danny onto her lap, the young doctor chatted about anything and everything. Nodding at the appropriate moments, Jack listened to the lovely young woman closely, and sighing softly, knew she said everything but what she came to say.

Watching Carolyn kneel down and hug his children with a fierce possessiveness, Jack remembered a rhyme Sara used to sing to Charlie and huffed quietly,' the time has come the walrus said to talk of many things: of shoes and ships-and sealing wax -of cabbages and kings.'

Samantha Carter knocked politely at the front door of her friend's home a few hours later, and shivered with cold and anticipation. Stamping her feet a little impatiently, a basket laden with treats biting into her frozen fingers, she knew she should have visited Mark and the kids. Exiting the online booking page, she found herself wanting to be with Jack's family instead. Dan and Cam knew the sound of her car's engine, and whooping and hollering, yelled for their daddy to open the door. Her face instantly creasing into a brilliant smile, blue eyes twinkling with delight, Sam pushed away any niggling feelings of guilt and waved at her favorite general. Studying the decorated table, she picked up her place card and rubbed the candy pink glitter between her fingertips with pleasure.

Standing in the doorway and studying Sam's silhouette, Jack arched an eyebrow knowingly. He was relieved, but a little guilty that Sam had chosen to spend her Christmas with them, and calling her into the kitchen, offered her a slice of the ever shrinking, potent, Christmas cake. "This will clear your sinuses, Carter, trust me." Sitting by the fire, and listening as the rain tumbled relentlessly from the sky, the two friends laughed as the children desperately tried to guess what treasures lay hidden behind the bright paper and gargantuan bows. Looking at each other carefully, Jack and Sam smiled, and wondered about life's strange twists.

His hand brushing the brightly wrapped gifts, Teal'c studied the general's Christmas tree as its lights twinkled, and sighed. Teal'c had spent many years living among the Tau'ri, and found many of its traditions alternatively amused, irritated, or made him feel an intricate sadness. Christmas stirred a philosophical quandary with in him, but feeling alone and adrift, he wanted to share the holiday with them. Struggling to remember Ryac at this age, he knocked on the front door and smiled at the sounds of childish shouts, and fresh faced innocence. He had spent all his life fighting one battle or another, and innocence was something that would always elude him.

Taking him by his hand and dragging him into the family room, Daniel lifted his arms in a silent demand to be lifted. Snuggling under Teal'c's chin and breathing softly, the tiny archeologist intuitively understood his old friend's need for comfort and love. Wriggling a little closer, Daniel looked into his kind face and blinked slowly. Nodding his head in understanding, Teal'c the former first prime of an alien race, inhaled the child's sweetness and allowed himself be fleetingly distracted.

The mismatched family sat companionably in Jack O'Neill's family room, warmed by the raging fire, and listening to Christmas carols warbling in the background. Over the years, SG1 had gravitated together. Drawn by the irrevocable ties that bind. Sometimes the holiday had been successful, sometimes painful, and full of tears. Through the good and bad times, the team understood the importance of staying together. They shared the pain as easily as they shared the laughter.

Not wanting to fill the air with small talk, SG1 soaked in each other's company, and felt contentment. Daniel and Cameron blinked drowsily, and with kittens coiled around them, snuggled into Jack's lap.

Looking around the room, Jack caught Teal'c's glance and arched a knowing eyebrow. The warriors who had endured much in their lives, understood happiness could be fleeting. In a tremor of a heartbeat, everything could change, but sometimes… it could be for the best.

Craning his neck and searching for the framed photo of Sara and Charlie smiling on a Christmas Eve long gone, he mouthed, "Merry Christmas, I love you."

TBC….


	7. Chapter 7

Dan & Cam:

Dan & Cam:

The Birds and the Bees.

Author: Amberfly.

Warnings: None, very vague.

The general sat at his desk and gently rocked back and forth in his chair.

The day had started out promising, but disintegrated into a hotchpotch of misunderstandings and recriminations. Doodling on a blotter, he asked himself, "What actually happened? How did I lose control so completely?" Rolling his chair back and switching off the lamp, Jack trudged up the stairs and figured it would all make more sense after a good night's sleep.

The nightlight in the hallway glowed softly, and softly padding past the boys' room, the general stopped and listened to his children breathing. Sighing, Jack crossed his arms over his chest and stood in the doorjamb to watch them sleep. As their tiny chests rose and fell, he felt a powerful stab of love for them. He whispered, "Okay, you little terrorists, you may have won the battle but you won't win the war."

Pulling the door shut, Jack muttered, "Who am I kidding… _of course_ they'll win the war."

88888 888 888 88888 8888888

General Jack O'Neill's adopted boys were five years old. Freckled-faced, and gorgeous, Dan and Cam were a pair of lively and curious children. Jack adored them, and being the cagey and experienced daddy he was, constantly managed to wrong foot them.

Normally, but not today.

Today Daniel and Cameron had succeeded in leaving their canny parent speechless, his lean face beetroot red with embarrassment.

Today Jack had learnt the true meaning of 'out_ of the mouths of babes_.'

Danny and Cameron were far too young to worry about the birds and the bees, so no one gave it any thought. Charlie hadn't lived long enough to be overly curious, as he'd been too busy chasing things like a hockey puck. Jack remembered when Charlie had been eight years old and Sara had thought it was time for a chat. Jack wasn't so sure, but bowing to her maternal wisdom, he agreed. He thumbed through the 'Talk to your Kids About Sex, A Go Parents Guide' and couldn't help squirming.

Later that day they called Charlie into the lounge for the big talk, and holding the book in a death grip, Jack opened it and cleared his throat a little nervously. "Charlie, you're eight years old now and there might be something that you want to discuss with us. Now, see this picture here…" Slowly and methodically, Jack and Sara explained the mysteries of sexuality.

Charlie listened politely and stared at the illustrations when prompted. Jack finally closed the book and handed it to his child. Smiling warmly and placing his arm around his skinny shoulders, he asked, "So, Charlie is there anything you want to ask us?" Waving his hand in the air in a vague circular motion and nodding at the book, he added, "Any questions?"

Charlie O'Neill flatly informed them he didn't want to have a baby and that girls give you cooties. Handing the book back after deliberately closing it shut, the little boy looked at both parents' faces, blinking innocent wide eyes at them.

Patting his dark blonde head and biting back a laugh, Jack O'Neill lowered his voice, whispering, "Smart move, Charlie-horse. Apparently you get stretch marks." Ignoring the groan and the punch to his arm, he took Charlie's hand and shrugged a shoulder, muttering to Sara, "See? Told you it was too early."

Dan and Cam were partially aware of their former lives, but as the weeks rolled into months, their memories dimmed, often becoming confused and scrambled. Occasionally Daniel would finger a translation request on Jack's desk, and squinting, would start to decipher the text. Nodding his head gravely, the general would sit his littlest archeologist down and encourage Daniel to record his findings.

Cameron occasionally shocked Jack by asking what he thought about a complex battle plan, and stammering out an answer he hoped would keep the child satisfied, the general deftly changed the subject.

Today at the mountain, the boys had one of those inexplicable but very scrambled flashbacks. Dan and Cam were as thick as thieves. Skirting one crisis after another, they happily egged each other on. Normally a quiet, thoughtful little boy, Daniel occasionally allowed himself to be caught up with one of Cam's outrageous ideas. This morning, Cammie's imagination had gone into overdrive, and unfortunately, Danny indulged his wild streak and went along for the ride.

The general was still on extended family leave, but naturally needed to report in regularly. Not particularly wanting to leave the boys and fly to Washington, Jack ordered files brought to Hank's office.

Captain Leonard missed the affable general and readily agreed to accompany any classified documents to Colorado Springs. A pretty redhead, the Pentagon Officer was viewed with instant suspicion by Cam. His imagination stirred and sidling up to his brother, he said, "Wot if she wants to marry Daddy and take him back to the Pentagram? What if they find a baby when they woke up, and Jack wants to be his daddy 'stead? With his arms crossed across his tiny chest, Cam said," He's our daddy, Daniel, and we don't want Cap'in Lemon-bum around."

Daniel listened to Cam and rolled his eyes. "Daddy isn't going to marry Captain Leonard, he wants to marry Sam. Remember? He told Teal'c yesterday that sometimes Sam reminded him of a nagging wife. Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Daniel wondered what that actually meant. Looking at his untied sneaker lace and sighing, said," I'd better ask them when we have lunch." Dreamily thinking about what he could order at the commissary, Dan didn't see his brother's fingers twitch until it was too late. Jumping with pain, Daniel glowered at his brother and cried, "Ow! Don't pinch me! Okay, I'll help you, but I think your nuts."

Cameron didn't bother answering Danny; he was just thrilled to have his pliable co-conspirator. Shaking his head wisely the little pilot confided to his brother that babies were bought for a dime from the cabbage patch man. Leaning in and cupping his hand to whisper, he added. "But the mommy and daddy hafta love each ov-fer." Snaking his arm around his wide-eyed brother's shoulders, Cam lowered his voice and said, "If she weren't so pretty, then Daddy wouldn't wanna to marry her." Eyes flashing with excitement the little fly-boy wriggled in anticipation. "Dan! I know! We jus haf to make her look ugleeeee!"

Dropping his gaze and shrugging off Cam's arm, Daniel moved back a step, wanting to think through what Cam said carefully. He wasn't sure, but it didn't sound _quite_ right to him. He loved his brother, but knew his plans were seriously flawed. Several regretful incidents came to mind. Feeling his cheeks flush, Dan thought about the green stamp caper, and remembered how horribly wrong it had gone. Jack had only just returned their bikes and he didn't want to risk them so soon.

Daniel was a kind little boy and didn't want to hurt the captain's feelings. "We can't be mean to her, Cam." Scowling, Daniel demanded to know how Cameron knew Jack wanted to buy a baby for the captain.

Unfortunately, once the lieutenant colonel got an idea into his shaggy head, he threw caution to the wind, and Danny found it difficult to dissuade him. With a fleeting look of confusion on his face, the littlest colonel shrugged his shoulders and said, "Cos, she's pretty and Major Ferretti said sumfink about a babe."

Thinking hard and walking around the room, Daniel wrinkled his brow with concentration. "We're just going to have to make her so ugly Jack won't want to marry her and buy a baby for a dime."

Collapsing to the ground and sitting cross-legged, the little brothers plotted, planned, and finally decided on another ridiculous master plan. The worst thing they could think of was to coat her hairbrush and face creams with raspberry jam and bubblegum.

Recently, Cameron had one of his giant bubbles pop, sticking like glue to his hair and face. It turned into a drama of unbelievable proportions for the little family. His hair was baby fine and easily tangled, and Jack couldn't shift the gum. Shaking his head, the general knew it needed a barber's expertise. Cam _hated_ having his haircut, and kicking and screaming, had to be carried into the shop. Shuddering at the memory, Cameron couldn't think of anything worse. "If she's bald, Daddy won't marry her!"

Daniel had his own bad memories running around his head. He loved food; it was his greatest passion. Mrs. Jones occasionally babysat the boys, and kindly left Jack a jar of her runny, homemade jam. Spying the delicious treat and wanting a taste, Danny lifted the jar over his face. He patted the bottom too vigorously, and the jam blobbed out covering his face and hair. The more the frantic little boy scrubbed at his face, the more it spread and stuck to him.

Looking at each other and remembering the disastrous bath and barber visit, Dan and Cam held hands and vowed to carry on. "Daniel, Daddy and Captain Lemon-bum could be finking 'bout a buying a baby! We hafta to hurry."

Looking around their quarters, the children waited for the sitter to run her chores. Leaving a sergeant at the door with explicit instructions to watch the boys, the Lieutenant hurried away. Promising the bulky marine they would sit and watch the DVD, the young and foolish marine stood_ outside_ the door.

Dan and Cam could not believe their luck. The VIP room stocked jams and honey in tiny jars, and Daniel painstakingly scooped their contents into a glass. Satisfied he had enough; Daniel wiped his hands on his windbreaker and ordered Cam his to chew his gum faster.

Chewing as much grape flavored bubble gum as they could cram into their mouths, the O'Neill boys' were armed and dangerous. With the precision of Hannibal, the tiny lieutenant colonel planned his next move.

Dan and Cam were mischievous children but they truly never meant any real harm. Looking at the sticky glass, and with mouths full of gum, they experienced a pang of uncertainty. What if the captain's lovely hair fell out? What if she cried so much she had an unfortunate but embarrassing accident at the barbers? What is she got soap in her eyes slipped under the water and practically drowned?

These were very real fears to the boys. The thought of sharing their daddy with anyone appalled them, and with childish insecurities, their memories played ducks and drakes with them. They remembered girls had babies, but not the specifics. Searching their memories, they pieced together the worst of old myths and fairytales.

Hearts beating loudly and their palms inexplicably sweaty, the little boys peeked through a crack in their door and waited until the sergeant who guarded them was distracted. Slinking into the hallway and into the adjacent VIP room, the boys looked around the room suddenly very unsure. Hearing the shower running, the boys grabbed the captain's brushes and cosmetics with grubby little hands. Bright purple gum sat in the middle of her cleansing creams, and her white, bone handled brushes, were dipped several times into the jam jar.

Captain Leonard turned the shower off and seeing the bathroom door handle moving, the miscreants realized they missed the opportunity to escape. Trapped in her room, the boys threw themselves behind the couch and tried to calm their ragged breathing.

Dan and Cam waited, crouched behind the couch for what seemed like hours. It had barely been thirty seconds, but to the little intruders the wait seemed to last forever. Finally, the young Captain walked out, toweling her hair singing softly, unaware of the Peeping Toms lurking behind her couch. Looking into the mirror and straightening an eyebrow, she grabbed her robe and sat at the dressing table.

The little intruder's nerves got the better of them, and breathing loudly, gave themselves away. Arching her perfectly plucked eyebrow, and glancing into her compact, the captain spied her visitors. Snapping the compact shut, she wondered what the O'Neill boys' were doing in her room. Rising slowly to her feet, Kat noticed her vandalized brushes and cosmetics. Leaning down to inspect her antique brushes closer, she frowned at their filthy condition. Picking up her favorite brush and gingerly sniffing it, she recognized the sweet smell of raspberry jam and honey. Following the sticky fingerprints, she twisted open her cold cream and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Mm what's all this? Two bears of very little brain have been touching was doesn't belong to them, I fear." Biting back a laugh, Captain Leonard picked up her brushes and grabbing a wad of tissues, dabbed slowly at the jam. Waiting for the perfect moment, Kathryn whirled around, and with the bearings of an officer, she ordered the little airmen to show themselves. "Daniel and Cameron O'Neill front and centre this instant!"

Cam and Dan had dropped to all fours and peered covertly around the corner of the couch. Eyes widening with shock at the sound of their names, they twisted around hoping to see other boys called Daniel and Cameron.

Heart hammering and tears streaming down his face, Daniel rolled to his feet and edging around the couch, said, "Please don't go to sleep with my daddy. He doesn't want a cabbage patch because we've only got room for our cubby-house and swings." Gulping and waving his hands in the air, Daniel added miserably, "The stork might get all burnt up in our chimney!"

Trailing around the other side, Cameron swallowed loudly, and through his tears, asked in a small voice. S'cuse me, are you going to have a baby now? Have you been a mommy and daddy who love each ov- ver yet?"

Calling them over and kneeling down to face them, Captain Kathryn Leonard shook her head and gently asked. "Is this why you put jam and candy all over my things? Are you frightened I am here to take your daddy away from you?"

Nodding their heads and shaking with sobs, the little boys stood with their heads bowed, tightly holding onto each other's hands. Kat looked at the forlorn children and her heart melted. "Oh, children! General O'Neill is my commanding officer, that's why I'm here! I have a fiancé already and I am _certainly_ not having a baby. Scooting closer and taking their hands, the captain asked very gently, "Do you know where a baby comes from and how they are born?"

Looking at each other and nodding their heads, Cameron explained. "A mommy and daddy hafta to go to sleep and when they waked up the baby is in the garden." Glancing at Danny who shrugged, Cam moved into Kathryn's embrace, and sniffing, added," The daddy hasta give the cabbage man a dime, and then the stork flied down the chimley."

Smiling and hugging the boys closely, Kat didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The innocence of the little boys touched her deeply. "Is that right? Who told you this?" Seeing vague looks settle across the boys' faces, the captain knew it was time to bring in the cavalry.

Knocking on the conference room door, Captain Leonard asked to speak to the general. Waving her in, General O'Neill smiled pleasantly and told her to take a seat. Shaking her head and asking for permission to speak privately, she lowered her voice and whispered in his ear that his children were sitting outside. "Sir, I need to talk to you _urgently_."

Tipping his head to one side, Jack listened carefully to the litany of his children's latest crime.

Jack couldn't believe it. He stared down at the squirming boys huddled miserably together on one chair and felt an overwhelming urge to throw his hands in the air and burst out laughing. Laurel and Hardy had nothing on his children.

Catching the amused twinkle in his adjutant's eyes, Jack forced himself to be a stern daddy. Hands on his hips, and tapping his foot, Jack repeated their crimes aloud. "Daniel, Cameron, did you leave your quarters unsupervised? "

Seeing the heads nod, he continued.

"Captain Leonard tells me she found you in her room, behind her couch, hiding? Is this true?"

The boys gulped, and with a tear running down their freckled faces, the little heads gave another tiny shake.

"And this is the worse crime of all. Children, did you vandalize the captain's good hairbrush and spit gum into her creams?"

Bowing their heads so their chins rested on the jam covered sweaters, Dan and Cam gave another tiny nod.

Glaring at his boys, he hunkered down to their eye level. Taking their hands in his, he asked with a deceptively calm and quiet voice. "Well, what have you got to say for yourselves?"

Behind the half-closed door, ears pricked up and wide smiles appeared magically across tired, bored faces. The long, stuffy meeting had suddenly taken an entertaining twist, and the required attendees were riveted. Suffering through boring reports, the thought of what Jack's little hellions might say proved irresistible. Hurriedly filling up their coffee cups and refreshing water glasses, the men and women of Stargate Command sat back. Waggling an eyebrow or wearing a silly smirk, they were ready and willing to be entertained.

Cameron gulped and took one-step backwards, leaving Danny alone on the Western Front. Biting back a fresh flood of tears, Danny saw his predicament, and his words rushed out in a jumble. Looking up at Jack's stern face with tear swollen eyes, Daniel's shoulders heaved with a sob while he stammered, "P-please d-don't be m-mad, D-Daddy, we d-didn't mean to make wreck C-Captain L-L-Leonard's junk. We just wanted to make her ugly so you wouldn't marry her.

Feeling sick, dizzy, and very confused, Daniel lowered his head and felt his tears run down his cheeks.

Audible gasps floated from the conference room and the room's inhabitants pretended to cough, sneeze or fart--anything to disguise their blatant eavesdropping. Holding his finger to his lips and making a slashing motion across his throat, Ferreti whispered, "Wait, the kids are just getting to the best bits."

Cam stepped forward and holding his hands demurely in front of him, sniffed miserably and then blurted out his deepest fears, "We knowed that if you sleep wif Cap' in' Leonard then you hafta to haf a baby. You don' want a baby does you, Daddy? You don't have any money for the cabbage man do you? Cos, we cost more than God. Please don't let a stork com down our chimley!"

The general stood up carefully, ignoring the click of his arthritic knee. Half shutting his eyes, he groaned, "Oh, for crying out loud." Hearing the echo of Major Feretti's whinnying snicker, he wondered how hard it would be to cancel the meeting, get into his truck, and drive to the Australian outback.

Grinning lamely at the officer young enough to be his daughter, Jack flicked his arm in the air and struggled to think of something profound to say. Coming up short, he felt the flush start at his neck and spread all the way to his ears. Taking her hand gingerly in his and patting it, the general tried his winning smile and said, "Captain, no harm. I apologize for my children; they are obviously a little confused." Wincing at her amused look, he dropped her hand and shrugged, mouthing, "Kids!"

Smiling demurely and looking at her perfectly buffed shoes, the captain said. "That's fine, sir. I'm sure you will explain to Daniel and Cameron where babies really come from. I'll get the brushes cleaned and give you the bill for my cosmetics in the morning." Saluting, and leaning down to the boys, the captain winked, and whispered, "I could use some new creams anyway!"

Regaining his sense of humor and calling out to the guffawing major to can it, the general studied the shattered faces of Dan and Cam. Stretching his arms out, he said, "Come 'ere." As the boys jostled with each other for front position, Jack realized that small children are by their very nature, tactless. They don't plan where or when to ask embarrassing questions, they just open their mouths and blurt them.

Looking down at the crying boys and kneeling down a little slower, he whispered that it was going to be okay and that he wasn't planning to have a baby with anyone. "Come on now, dry those tears, it's all just been a misunderstanding." Tweaking Cam's nose, he added sternly, "Except for the fact you left your room and then broke into the captain's.

We will have a bit of a chat after lunch, okay? Standing up and scratching at dried snot, Jack said," Then how about we discuss what happens to little boys who break into other people's rooms?

"No, Daddy, I rather we didn't."

"Me nee-ver, Daddy."

"Guess again, children."

Lieutenant Colonel Carter looked at the shocked faces around the conference room and burst out laughing. "Come now, gentleman, you must have some sympathy for the poor captain."

General Landry tilted his head and frowned half heartily at his grinning colonel. Shaking his head at her, he walked up to Jack and slapped him on the back. "Good to see you have everything under control, General."

With a nod of acknowledgment at Hank and a sarcastic tinge to his voice, Jack muttered, "Ya think, Hank?" Twirling his finger in the air in a circular motion, he added, "You knew something like this would happen, didn't you?"

Slapping his back again and shaking with silent laughter, General Landry shrugged elegantly. "So, Jack… time for the birds and the bees talk?"

Daniel and Cameron looked at each other and suddenly turned shy, barreling into Jack's legs. Rubbing their faces against his trousers and leaving trails of snot, the little boys looked up at their dad's face with wide eyes, and saw his wide smile. Completely confused and wondering why they weren't in desperate trouble, the small boys blinked and sighed with relief.

Shame faced and mortified, Danny just wanted everyone to go away. This had been another Dan and Cam disaster. Being an astute little boy, he knew there would be consequences to face. Hugging his dad tighter, Daniel vowed never to listen to his maniac brother ever again.

Cameron was more resilient and therefore not quite so mortified or shame faced. The moment the little colonel heard his daddy laugh, he knew they dodged a bullet. Smart enough to keep his head down; he burned with curiosity. He was determined to find out exactly where General Landry kept his birds and bees. Brown eyes gleaming with mischievousness, Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell looked over his shoulder, and peered hopefully into the general's office.


	8. Chapter 8

Cause & Effect

Cause & Effect  
By Gemsong & Amberfly  
Genre: Kidfic  
Summary: Just Cause  
Feedback: mysite. / gemsong120/ indexsg1 fanfic.htm  
Author's Note: (Gemsong-she dared me. Amberfly- she double dog dared me.)

Jack is a toddler, and is the creation of the marvelous Gemsong. Cam and Dan are mine. Gemsong's site has all toddler Jack's stories!

At 23 months, the little boy was unusually agile and quick. He was also way  
too smart for someone his size. But then again, a few months ago, he was a  
46-year-old colonel in the Air Force. Things change. What hadn't changed was  
how well he knew the ins and outs of Stargate Command. And he was on a  
mission of the utmost importance. Retrieval of Dr. Carmichael's prized rat.

"Come on Algewnon," Jack hissed as he fumbled around the dark storeroom. He  
had seen the sleek white rat slip through the partially open door. He  
couldn't reach the light switch so he just fumbled his way around looking  
into all the dark spaces a little white rate could hide. That meant things  
were knocked over. He didn't see the flashing lights of one of the objects  
hitting the floor.

Just then, he saw the object of his quest. "Algie!" he crowed in triumph and  
scooped up the wriggling form in his pudgy hands. Jack heaved a huge sigh of  
relief and leaned back against the mirror behind him.

And fell through. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back. There were  
alarms blaring and men with guns pointed at him. Algernon decided the safest  
place to be was inside Jack's tee shirt. Jack looked at the guns barrels  
pointed at him and sighed. "Awww thit."

888888888888808888888

General Landry looked down his nose and carefully studied the serious,  
brown-eyed toddler perched on his hip. Smiling weakly at the bug-eyed rat  
the boy held in a death grip, he sighed, "This can not be happening to me  
again."

Glaring at Carter and waggling his eyebrows at her look of resignation, Hank  
grabbed the little boy's fingers and tried to free poor Algie from certain  
suffocation."Hey, buddy, you're gonna hurt it."

Wincing at Jack's squeal, "Thew you ol man, he'th mine!" he shook his head  
and muttered, "A quantum mirror? Like the one supposedly disabled at Area  
52?"

Hoisting the squirming child a little higher, and rescuing the slightly  
demented white rat, Hank lowered his voice, whispering, "Colonel Carter, are  
you are telling me this child and his plague bearing friend here are from  
another dimension?"

Rolling his eyes at her casual shrug, the general shuddered at the  
connotations, "A little Jack O'Neill? Dear God, just kill me now!"

"O'ky, got a that?" Who ith you anyway?" Looking around the general's girth,  
desperate to retrieve his rat, the tiny O'Neill lisped, "Whewe my Dan'il?"

Narrowing his eyes and kicking his sturdy little legs, he repeated himself a  
little more insistently, "I thiad, whewe's Dan'el? He'th thoo gonna kick  
youw ath to da…"

Before the little boy could finish his threat, Carter's eyes flew open with  
horror, and swooping, plastered her hand across his mouth, warning, "Ah-huh,  
no swearing at the General, little one!"

"Thew you!"

"Pardon me?"

Wiggling and throwing all his weight into escaping Hank's grip, Colonel  
"Jack" O'Neill sunk his four teeth into the unsuspecting general's hand, and  
hit the ground running. "Bub-bye!"

Unfortunately, for the escapee, he toddled straight into the khaki clad legs  
of General "Jack" O'Neill.

Hunkering to his knees and wincing, the general said kindly, "Sorry, buster,  
but I outrank you…me…us."

Shaking his head, and throwing his hands in the air, General Hank Landry  
threw his old friend a desperate look, and asked, "How is any of this  
possible, Jack? Is there a job requirement ya'll sign? Join the Air Force  
and lose a couple of decades?"

Shrugging a shoulder with a 'what can you do look,' Jack whipped his head  
around at the sound of small feet stampeding down the hallway. "Crap, they  
gave Teal'c the slip!"

The office door crashed open, and flying in, General O'Neill's small boys  
scampered in and threw themselves at his legs. Smiling and throwing his  
hands in the air, Cam bumped Dan aside with his hip and bubbled, "Hi, Daddy,  
miss me? Hey, is that our new little brother? Teal'c said we hafta be real  
nice to the baby cos he's lost. Why's he lost, Daddy? Can he sleep with  
Dan?"

Jumping on the spot, eyes flashing with outrage, the little archeologist  
spluttered, "Daddy! Not my room! He wears diapers! Put him with Cammie, he  
farts all the time and won't notice if the baby poops!"

"I don' fart!"

"Yeah you do! You're a gas belly!"

"Ba'ee? Thew you wock boy!"

Slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead, Hank groaned, "What did he  
say? How does a baby even know these words? Stupid question, it's you."

Dumping Cam onto his feet, and scooping up Jack, General O'Neill said, "Just  
a cotton pickin' minute! Brother?"

Poking the cross- faced little toddler in his potbelly, Jack groaned, "Oh,  
for crying out loud! We are only looking after the little guy until Carter  
can send him home. It shouldn't take her long."

Glaring and moving towards her sharply, Jack warned," Should it, Captain."

Rolling her eyes and smiling thinly, Colonel Carter muttered under her  
breath, "Chip off the old block alright."

Oblivious to any unfolding drama, Cam pulled Mini-Jack's tiny foot. "Neat  
snweakers, diaper boy."

Kicking towards Cam, a murderous scowl across his cute little face,  
Mini-Jack drooled, "Watch it; I can kill wif a teaspoon."

Snorting and tweaking the foot a little harder, Cammie giggled, "Hey squirt,  
I'm the boss of you." Spotting the demented white rat out of the corner of  
his eye, the little colonel abandoned his baby baiting, and squealed with  
excitement, "Wow, the dumb baby's got himself a rat! How cool!"

Twitching nervously, Algie, believing Cameron and little Jack were not the  
ideal pet owners, wisely decided to go AWOL.

Whooping with delight, the little fly-boy threw himself after Algie, thereby  
confirming the rat's worst suspicions.

Daniel crinkled his nose in disgust, and moving behind Sam's leg, said,  
"Daddy! Watch out, there's a rodent loose!"

Little Jack bounced in the general's arms crossly, and yelled, "Hey! Heth  
not a wodent, heth Algewon!"

Sighing softly, General Jack O'Neill looked at the pouting little boy, and  
knew his life just became a little more…interesting.

Waving his hand in the air in a vague circular motion, he moaned, "Carter, fix this mess."

"Cameron, give the rat back to Short-stop and stop pouting."

"Daniel, the rat won't hurt you and stop pouting."

"Short-stop, take the rat and wipe that pout from your face."

"Hank, call the marines."

The toddler reclaimed his absconded pet and actually managed to sooth it to  
some semblance of calm. This meant it had been reduced to only sporadic  
twitching.

"You can put me down now," Mini Jack said.

"I don't think that that would be a good idea right now," Jack replied, his  
calm rapidly becoming a façade.

"I wanna see the rat!" Cam yelled.

"He's not sleeping with me!" Daniel added.

"Put me down!" Mini Jack said along with a mild kick to the mid-section.

Jack nearly dropped the kid who fortunately landed on him feet. Jack pointed  
a stern finger at him. "Don't move," he said.

Mini Jack suddenly smiled with endearing sweetness. His brown eyes crinkled  
with pure mischief as he turned to Carter. "Can I sweep with you inthead,  
bwondie?" he asked sweetly.

Carter's face alternated between red and white as the blood rushing to and  
from her face couldn't decide what to do. Nor was her brilliant mind capable  
of a coherent response.

"Me too!" Cameron said. "We need a mommy!"

"Why don't you take them home while Carter figures this out," Hank  
suggested. He had only just gotten rid of the two. The third was  
frightening.

Mini Jack looked up at Big Jack. "Hey… how bout pizza and a hockey game?!"  
he suggested. "Whewe awe da Avalache in da thandings?"

No doubt about it. Adult mind in mini body. Jack's façade began to show  
cracks.

The drive home with three squealing little boys made Jack's special op's  
missions seem like a walk in the park. Buckling them into the booster seats,  
they instantly began to squabble and fight.

Cam wanted the rat.

Really wanted the rat.

And, would do anything it took to get his grubby little mitts on poor  
Algernon. Leaning across the steely-eyed toddler, he whispered behind his  
hand, "Kid, give me the rat or the fancy sneakers get flushed down the can."

Dan's mouth formed a perfect O, amazed that his brother would threaten the  
tot. Hissing back just as threatening, "Hey, Cam! Leave the kid's rat  
alone!"

Looking at the back of Jack's head, the little archeologist cleared his  
throat delicately and thought briefly about dobbing.

Crinkling his nose in disgust as Algie sat on Mini-Jack's lap, manically  
cleaning his ratty face; Danny decided it would be better all round if he  
just threw the creature out of the window. In a pitch Jack hadn't heard  
before, Dan drew a deep breath and let em all have it. "Dad-de-ee, the rats  
giving me the bubonic plague! Dad-de-e-ee, are you listening to me?"

Mini-Jack jumped in fright, not expecting Dan's Olympic winning whine, and  
shutting his eyes, muttered to the white lab rat, "Oh, fow cwying out woud,  
just bite me. The pwague would hafta to be wess painful dan wiving with this  
famiwy."

Then glaring at his new nemesis, muttered he would hand Algie over when hell  
froze over. Screeching to be heard over the stiff competition of the booster  
set set, Mini Jack demanded to ride shotgun. "Come on, O'Neill; wet's bow  
dis pop-thand. Ditch the wug rats and I'll buy us a beew."

Algie twitched uncontrollably, and blinking his red, beady eyes, thought  
about biting his way out.

Clutching the wheel with clenched white knuckles, Jack counted backwards  
from one hundred. In Goa'uld. "That is it! One more scream, screech or whine  
and you are all going to be sitting on smacked bottoms, am I clear?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Yup."

"Twy it."

The back seat of the Ford descended into quiet. Dan and Cam rolled their  
eyes and knew Jack was generally a general of his word.

Mini-Jack rolled his eyes and plotted revenge.

Crossing his ankles and kicking his chubby little legs in the air, the tot  
casually leant across the sulking, arm folded lieutenant colonel's chair.  
Smiling sweetly, he whispered, "Oh, Co'nel?" and bunching his tiny fist,  
popped Cam on this nose.

Sitting back and waiting for the howl, the toddler hummed quietly to  
himself.

Cam's eyes rounded with shock, and touching his battered nose, howled with  
fury. "Oww, D-daddy, the dumb baby hitted me!" Demanding swift retribution,  
he cried, "D-dad-deee, shall I take his rat as punishment?"

"The rat's done nothing wrong, stop complaining. Shortstop, do not make me  
pull this truck over.'

"Pflaaattt."

"Excuse me, young man?"

"Daddy, he said….

"Cameron, shut up."

"But he hit me, Daddeeeeee, my noseth ith broketh."

Indicating to turn off the freeway, Jack looked in the rear vision mirror  
and seeing the tot wave a chubby hand at him, shuddered. "Cam, don't be  
ridiculous, he's what? Two years old? He's half your size, deal with it and  
don't carry tales."

Dan spluttered with outrage, "Huh? Aren't you gonna yell at him?'

Danny rolled his eyes at his brother's theatrics, and looking at Cam's  
fallen face, felt sorry for him. However, being on the receiving end of  
Cammie's rough play far too often, he bit his lip, and looked carefully at  
the eyebrow-waggling tot.

Grabbing Mini-Jack's sneaker clad little foot, a slow growing smile crept  
across the archeologists face. Listening to his cross brother grumbling and  
mumbling, Daniel winked half his face at the tot, and said brightly, "Oh, he  
did not Daddy! Cam is fibbing!"

"Excuse me; are you lying to me Cameron?"

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"B'out that beew?"

Algernon took full advantage of the kafuffle and with the skill of a Cirque  
de Soleil acrobat, slipped Mini Jack's grip and hit the floor scuttling  
along the floorboards and under the seat. The rat decided it was the best  
decision he could have made. Crumpled up paper, empty bottles and stale  
potato chips.

This elicited howls of rage, fear, and glee from the back seat and Jack felt

the growing throbbing start to make its presence felt in his frontal lobe.

"Be quiet!" he shouted in his general's voice.

Abrupt silence reigned for a full 60 seconds.

"I used to be abwe to do that," the littlest squirt in the back said. "Don't  
work anymore. Welly thucks."

Jack groaned silently, and then imagined a moment of salvation when he saw  
his driveway. It was short lived when he realized that he would have to not  
only unbuckle three hellions, but also retrieve one other dimensional rat  
currently hiding under the driver's seat.

All the children helped Jack find and catch Algie in their own special way.

Reeling from kicks to the face, knees to his nose and pokes to his eyes, the  
general captured the runaway, and shoved him in his coat pocket. "Crap or  
bite me, and think ratatouille."

Giggling at the silly Daddy, the three musketeers were keen to escape their  
confines. Tumbling out of seats, and falling over each other, the O'Neill  
boys squabbled, laughed and yelled down the driveway. Dragging mini-Jack by  
his hand, Dan chattered incessantly.

"How are you feeling? Good? Do you want a drink? A cookie? Hey, if you  
promise not to poop you can watch the discovery channel with me. There's a  
great episode about pyramids and ancient languages tonight."

Astounded that a baby would slap his hand on his forehead and shocked by the  
"thit, kill me now," comment, Danny ignored the ingratitude, putting it down  
to Quantum Mirror lag.

Cam didn't feel quite as benevolent, and taking the tot's other drool  
encrusted hand and squeezing it, whispered, "Youth can toddleth, buth you  
can'th hide."

Mini Jack looked from one brother to the other, and making a sound military  
decision, collapsed onto his diaper-clad butt and howled for his daddy.

Algernon the rescued rat shivered at the screech, and nestled into the  
general's jacket. He dreamt of happier, more carefree times. Down at the lab  
when all he had to worry about was some lunatic grafting an ear onto his  
butt.

"Hey, why is the kid crying? Cameron, did you hurt him? Daniel did you give  
him brain freeze?" Shaking his head and dropping his hands against his  
thighs, Jack agonized about picking himself up for a cuddle.

"Mm, is this odd? I won't go blind or anything." Kneeling down, his brown  
eyes crinkling with concern, Jack hoisted the crying colonel onto his hip  
and jiggled him gently. "Okay, here's the deal, I don't know you and you  
don't know me, deal?"

Mini-Jack nodded his head and rubbing his snotty nose across the general's  
windbreaker, sobbed, "Don't dwop me, ace, or I'll tell my Mommy on you. A  
tiny smile tugging at his lips," Doctor Jan' has big needles."

"See, that's pretending we know each other."

"Oh… how about, you dwop me and I'll tell my mommy on you," Mini-Jack said.  
"Thee has welly big needles."

"Better." Jack replied.

He managed to get them into the house with no more incidents. Of course it  
didn't last. While he was ordering pizza for dinner, the squabbling in the  
other room reached new proportions. The only calm one was the rat in his  
pocket.

"I hope you're not his pet," Jack said. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Meanwhile in the living room. Hell was a vacation spot.

"Not a babee!" Mini Jack was yelling

"Are too!" Cam shouted

"Am not!" Mini Jack yelled back

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"You don't exith in my wowld!"

"Oh yeah?!

"Yeah!"

"Daddy's coming!" Dan interrupted hearing the sound of the phone being hung  
up. "We gotta stop yelling!"

Mini Jack rolled his eyes. "You guys have no cwue on how to handwe him," he  
said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Mini Jack replied. "Watch thith!"

Jack walked into the room and his spider senses started tingling in warning.  
And for once, it wasn't his own two as the source. "What's going on, boys?"  
he asked.

Mini Jack toddled up the general. His hands clasped in front of him looking  
up at Jack. The brown eyes were wide with adoring innocence. Jack's spider  
senses began blaring.

"May I have Algie back pweeze?" The short one said. "I put him in my  
pocket," pointing to the pocket on the front of his overalls. "And not wet  
him out."

What a little con artist, Jack thought. He looked at his own two and saw the  
shock on their faces. He decided to play along. He hunched down to the  
squirt's level. "I really don't think that's a good spot for him, short  
stop," Jack said. "What if he escapes again?"

Mini Jack appeared to give the idea deep thought. "How bout a box wif howes  
in it, den heth safe and can't get out?"

Jack smiled. "Okay, you hold on to him and I'll find you a box," he said. He  
transferred the much calmer rat into Mini Jack's front pocket. "Hang on to  
him. I'll be right back." Jack then pointed at his own two wards. "Behave."  
Then he walked out of the room.

Mini Jack turned to his audience. The smug smirk firmly on his face as he  
stroked Algernon's head. Fortunately, the rat had poor short-term memory and  
relaxed in the snug pocket.

"How did you do that?!" Cam demanded.

Mini Jack smiled. "Ith all in the eyes," he said. "You do it wight and dey  
melt evewy time."

"Show me!" Dan asked already seeing the possibilities.

Mini Jack looked at Cam and smiled. The brown eyes were wide and adoring. He  
even worked up a glimmer of tears to make them glisten. "How come you don  
wike me?" He asked with a perfectly formed pout.

Cam stared and shuffling his feet back and forth, stuttered, "Oh, you're

'k'y."

Dan's eyes darted from the pink cheeked Cam back to the doe eyed Mini-Jack,  
and clapping his hands, knew this plan was a keeper. "Think of all the  
trouble we can get out of!" he said.

"Okay, now you twy," Mini-Jack said.

It hadn't taken Jack long to find an old shoebox and punch a few holes in  
the top. This meant he over heard most of the lessons in perfecting 'the  
look'. He struggled to keep from cracking up. He was sure the miniature  
version of himself was well aware that 'the look' didn't work on him. He  
perfected it after all. However, it would be amusing to see how his boys  
used it in hopes of getting out of the disasters they created.

"Cam, this is absolutely brilliant! Who have thought Dad was such a sucker?

"Dan, the dumb baby isn't as dumb as he looks."

"Oh, I'm wookin, kid, I'm wookin." Mini-Jack was being evil and he knew it.  
Smiling a crooked, dribbly smile, he figured Cameron deserved his  
comeuppances especially for trying to take his rat. Watching Danny run  
around, talking non-stop, and collecting all the forbidden cd's, patted  
Algernon, whispering, "Game on."

Jack leant against the doorjamb and watched his little sons collect all the  
contraband they could and shook his head in amazement. Catching Mini-Jack's  
glance and struggling to keep a straight face, he wagged his finger and  
mouthed, "Bad baby!"

Shrugging with impossible nonchalance, the tot made his chocolate eyes melt,  
and sticking his thumb in his mouth, sat down and waited for the fun to  
start.

"Daniel, where did you get those DVD's? Cameron, when did I say you could  
play with that model airplane?" Bunching his fists onto his hips and tapping  
his foot, Jack used his sternest, daddy voice, and barked," Well, children,  
you better have a very good explanation for being this naughty."

Almost losing their nerve, Mini-Jack toddled over and grabbing Dan's hand,  
whispered, "The wook, wemember the wook!" Nodding their heads, the boys re  
arranged their little faces until they managed an outstanding resemblance to  
the village idiot and his brother the halfwit.

Toddling back to the general, Mini-Jack held up his arms and demanded  
wordlessly to be picked up. Leaning against the general's chest, he blinked  
with bright eyes, and wriggling up his ribcage, whispered into his ear,  
"Tith is too easy isnth it."

Jiggling the tot on his hip and hissing back, "Can it, brat," Jack stared at  
his children and repeated his question.

"Aw, Daddee!" Blinking with all the adorability they could muster, the  
little suckers looked into their daddy's stern face. Gulping and horrified  
by the grim look on his face, the little brothers grabbed each other's hand  
for moral support.

Cameron squeaked, and glaring at the evilly smirking, but nearly toothless  
tot, knew he'd been had. Turning around and tiptoeing to the desk, replaced  
the model fighter plane… very carefully.

His blue eyes tracking his brother and then to the giggling tot, Dan had an  
epiphany. "Oh no! Algie isn't the only rat!"

That night, Sam rang the general and told him the Quantum Mirror had arrived  
from Area 51. "That must be a huge relief for you sir."

"Are you sure it's the right dimension? Jack asked. He really didn't want  
to inflict himself on another version of himself. The thought added to his  
headache.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "They obviously tracked him to the room where the  
mirror was. There was a sign."

"What did it say?"

"Missing: Colonel Jack O'Neill in body of toddler. May be in company of rat  
named Algernon. Extreme caution advised." Sam said. "Odd message."

Agreeing that it was a little odd wiping tomato sauce off his chin, and then  
changing his own diaper, Jack thanked the colonel, and placing the phone  
down, felt a stab of sorrow.

Creeping into his sons' room and looking at the beautiful baby curled up in  
his blankets, Jack smiled a slow, crooked kind of smile and knew he'd miss  
the little…

"Thee ya, Jack, have a nice life!"

"Yeahsureyoubetcha."

THE END


	9. Chapter 9

Authors: Amberfly and Cleo the Muse

Authors: Amberfly and Cleo the Muse  
Series: Dan and Cam.  
Title: Little White Lies.  
Warnings: None.  
Category: General.  
Feedback: Please.

This is Dan and Cam story is a happy collaboration with the amazing "Cleo the Muse!" Please, if you enjoy it, make sure to drop her a line!

"Nuts! 'Kay, just one more shove! Gotcha! Whoa, Danny, come 'ere!"

"Ow! Trying to! Someone's butt is in the way. Oh, Cammie! This is amazing!"

Dusty, sunlight-dappled, and full of mysterious artifacts, it could have been an  
exotic temple ruin for all the wonders it held for the two adventurers.  
Fortunately, for the intrepid explorers, Jack's attic was the next best thing,  
and right at home. Looking at each other with open mouths, Daniel and Cameron  
figured they'd hit pay dirt, and it was all theirs to excavate. Sneezing from  
the flying dust in the air, they ran into the middle of the room, unsure what to  
investigate first.

"Look it, Danny, look!" Cammie gasped, straining and tugging to lift one heavy  
cardboard box off another. His task was made all the more difficult by the too  
long sleeves of the class A jacket he wore. The service cap perched on his  
crown and threatening to slip down over his eyes didn't help either. Realizing  
he should probably help his brother before the box was accidentally dropped and  
Jack came running to find out the cause of the racket, Danny shoved up the  
sleeves of his own suit jacket--brown, not blue--and grabbed the other end of  
the box. The two small boys eased the heavy package to the attic floor, careful  
not to pin Danny's long, striped tie in the process, then immediately grabbed  
for the folded flaps.

"Whaddya 'spose is in here?" Cammie asked in a loud whisper, pausing with his  
tiny fingers wrapped around the corrugated edge.

"More of Daddy's clothes, maybe," Danny answered, tugging on his lapel for  
emphasis. "Let's find out!"

Eager hands pulled back the cardboard, laying the flaps down as far as they'd go  
and peering at the revealed contents. Instead of neatly folded garments,  
however, the boys beheld a treasure of a different sort: toys. Most of them  
were stuffed animals of various colors and species, but the curious eyes quickly  
spotted planes, trains, and automobiles.

Cammie gasped and plunged his hand into the box. "A 1965 Mustang!"

"A what?" His brother frowned, pausing in the middle of donning the red baseball  
cap he'd found at the top of the box.

"I dunno, but it's really cool!" the darker-haired boy answered, pulling out the  
model car and studying it carefully. Lifting it up and peering underneath it,  
Cam sighed with delight. "Isn't this just the beez kneez?"

Snorting and rolling his eyes at the look of rapture on his brother's face,  
Daniel shrugged. "I like the train better. He took out the locomotive and gave  
it a thorough, hands-on inspection. "It looks kinda like the one in Harry  
Potter."

Together, the boys delved through the box of toys, admiring some and discarding  
others. They couldn't begin to imagine why Jack would have all these wonderful  
things stored in the attic instead of downstairs where his sons could play with  
them. It wasn't until Cammie discovered a bright colored shoebox that they  
learned who the real owner of all these toys had been.

"What's this box say?" Cammie asked. He knew his letters well enough, but he  
preferred having his smart brother read things to him since he was less likely  
to get the words wrong.

"Charles Tyler O'Neill," Danny sounded out. "Maybe we should put all these toys  
away, Cammie."

"Why?"

"'Cause they belong to Charlie," he answered, rolling his eyes impatiently.

Cammie stuck out his lower lip. "Who's that? An' why's he got the same last  
name as Daddy?"

"'Cause he's Daddy's real son, flydork!"

"But we're Daddy's sons," the other boy sulked, looking decidedly cross.  
"Wordgeek," he added belatedly.

Danny sighed and scrubbed at one eye, wishing he could remember everything he  
was pretty sure he knew about Charlie. "Yeah, but we're 'dopted, Cammie.  
Charlie was Jack's... and Sara's."

"Sara? Our Sara?"

"Uh-huh." Danny sucked on his lower lip. "Maybe Charlie grew up and moved  
away, and that's why all his stuff is still here."

"I guess so," Cammie agreed, then sat down on the floor and opened the lid on  
the box. "Hey, there are pictures and letters in here!"

Excited by the find, Danny slid around the big cardboard box and knelt next to  
his brother, peering over his shoulder. "Look it, Cammie, that's Sara! She  
looks the same really." A small smile tugged at his lips as he whispered, "She's  
really pretty in a 'mom' kind of way," he hastily added, not wanting his  
brother to tease him for the rest of the day.

"S'pose and here's Daddy," Cammie added, flopping a sleeve-covered  
pointer-finger at the picture. "Look at his hair; it had color! And that's  
gotta be Charlie there." Holding the photo barely an inch from his nose, Cam  
studied his previously unknown brother's face silently willing him to say hello  
and introduce himself. "Hey Charlie, s'nice to meet ya."

"Uh-huh," Danny agreed, reaching for one of the folded slips of paper.  
Sprawling on his belly and kicking his feet up behind him, he opened the paper  
and spread out its creases against the dusty floorboards. "It's a letter."

"Danny? Who's it from?" Throwing himself down next to his brother, the brims of  
the caps bumping each other, Cammie twitched with curiosity. Leaning across, he  
plucked the yellowed envelope from the floor, and turning it around, added,  
"This says it's from a school? Charlie's?"

Constantly pushing the cap out of his eyes and tracing the faded words with his  
finger, Danny scowled. "Um, it's kind of hard to read, Cammie. Move out of my  
light and let me see."

When his brother obligingly inched sideways, Danny cleared his throat and read,  
"'Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill'." Giggling and looking at Cammie sideways, he said a  
little pompously, "That's Sara and Daddy in case you don't know! " Ignoring the  
rolled eyes and the drawled "duh", he flushed a little, and continued. 'Charlie  
has been troublesome at school recently, and despite my previous notes, you have  
not responded. I feel as though we need to discuss your son's behavior as a  
matter of urgency.'" Eyes impossibly wide, Danny stopped reading for a moment  
and took a great breath. "Wow, is he ever going to get it! Charlie must have  
been nuts!"

Pushing himself up and climbing onto a box, Cammie wore a look of horror mixed  
with awe. Flapping his sleeves in the air, he hooted with laughter, "Mistah and  
Missus? Don' they know Daddy's a General? Whoa, Charlie was sooo brave! "  
Sitting cross-legged, Indian style, Cam was enjoying himself and demanded Dan  
read the rest of the letter. Whenever he read out another outrageous prank, Cam  
crowed with delight. "Cool! Charlie must've bin the coolest kid at school!"

"Ssshhh! Cammie! He was being naughty! Even the teacher says so!"

"Pfflattt, what does some dumb ole teacher know? I'm just sayin'! Imagine even  
thinkin' 'bou't swappin' all the glue lids! How cool is that? "

"Isn't! Suppose the glue blobbed all over one of your drawings?" Rolling his  
eyes, Danny let the thought trail off, thinking it might make Cam's messy  
artwork look better. Watching his boisterous brother bounce hyperactively on his  
box, he decided it wasn't worth getting a noogie for, and changing the topic,  
said glibly, "Want me to read some more?"

Nodding his head furiously, Cammie listened to the rest of the letter. Miss.  
Ebert had listed all the sins Charlie had committed one by one, and the little  
colonel was very impressed. "Boy, wonder how many green stars our other brother  
lost? I think a gazillion!" Giggling, leaning down to tap Danny on the head, he  
begged, "Read the bit about the paint pots again. That was brilliant!"

Shoving up the over-long sleeves and letting the baseball cap slide over his  
eyes, Danny giggled back. "Hey, we must look like angels on loan from heaven to  
Daddy, mustn't we!" Sitting up and rocking back and forth, a sudden memory  
flashed into his mind. Looking at the toys, reading the letter, laughing about  
being an angel from heaven reminded him of something--something that made him  
feel somewhat sad--and he knew they should pack away the little box with the  
puppy on the lid and leave it in peace. "No, you heard me the first time."

"Wha?" Cammie lost patience with his suddenly silent and reflective brother, and  
jumping from his box, gave Danny a hard shove. "Hey, what's the matter with you?  
Stop being such a goody-goody!" Wrestling the shoebox from Danny's clutched  
fingers; a look of triumph flashing across his freckled face, Cammie grabbed the  
other letters. Tripping on his long trousers, Cammie looked over his shoulder  
and snapped, "Leave me 'lone! I just wanna see what else my other brother did at  
school." His brow furrowed and his little pink tongue peeking out between his  
lips, Cammie read the next letter slowly.

"Mrs. O'Neill, Charlie has been given a week's detention starting immediately.  
For his age, it is only appropriate for Charlie to sit with me at recess time  
and not to be allowed to play with the other children. I am very sorry to have  
to do this, but we cannot have other children's lunch boxes opened and contents  
swapped with another. I have warned Charlie twice before and have sent home a  
note. I realize that with your husband away a lot of the time, Charlie misses  
him, but I must consider the other children's health."

Waving the yellowed letter in the air and laughing happily, Cam conveniently  
ignored the result of Charlie's naughtiness and recited his sins word for word.  
"Swapped lunches? Blended paints to make crazy colors? Fill backpacks with  
leaves?" Cammie grinned and looming over Daniel, he smiled silently. 'Daddy  
never said anything so he musta thought it was funny! I bet that's why Sara  
never replied, she thought Miss. Egg-brain was just being a typical dorky  
teacher.' Jumping up and down on the spot, still clutching the letter in his  
fist, Cam nudged Dan and assured him, "Bet Jack and Sara thought it was the  
funniest ole thing ev-ah."

Danny sucked his bottom lip in and chewed on it thoroughly. He wasn't sure how  
he knew, but he did. He was certain Jack wouldn't have laughed. He just knew  
Jack and Sara would have dealt with the little boy firmly. Gulping, he was  
suddenly very glad he wasn't Charlie Tyler O'Neill.

A sudden noise caught his ears. "Uh, Cammie?"

"What?" his brother demanded grumpily, looking up from his perusal of Charlie's  
school letters.

"I think Daddy just started the weed-whacker."

"Uh-oh," Cammie agreed. Frantically, the two boys began stripping off the  
borrowed grown-up clothes and stuffing them back into the dusty garment bags.  
Boxes were hastily repacked and shoved back toward where they boys thought  
they'd originally been placed. Feeling slightly panicked Daniel flapped his  
hands in the air. "Cam? Is this where Daddy's clothes box was? Cam! Look! Stop  
reading that dumb letter!"

"Huh? Okay, fine, it looks fine!" Rolling his eyes, Cam couldn't have cared  
less. Boxes were boxes and it was all the same to him. Scanning the room and  
then pointing his finger, he said, "Nope, that box goes there!" Kicking at it to  
push it along, Cam achieved in five minutes what would have taken Daniel an  
hour. "There, it's perfect now! Daddy'll ne-vah know!" Patting Daniel on the  
back, he added, "Come 'on, if he catches us, we'll be in for it!"

Nodding his head, Danny planted his small fists on his hips and gave the attic a  
last cursory inspection. Slapping his hand against his forehead and squeaking  
with horror, he said, "Oh, we forgot to put back Charlie's box!" He reached for  
it, but Cammie swept it up and wrapped his arms around it.

"Nuh-uh," the little general declared. "I'm not fin'shed readin' yet."

Danny thrust out his lower lip. "We have to put it back, Cammie."

"We'll put it back the next time. C'mon, Danny, we haf to get down before Daddy  
comes in the house!"

Reluctantly, the little archaeologist nodded and followed his more adventurous  
brother down the steep staircase into the upstairs hall closet. They heaved the  
ladder back up into its locked position, then used broomstick handles to push  
the door the rest of the way back into the ceiling. Just as Cammie climbed off  
the closet shelf, Danny heard the mudroom door shut. Peering out the closet  
door, the two boys decided the coast was clear enough and dashed for their  
rooms.

"Whew!"

"You can sure say that again!"

"Whew!"

0808080

Wiping the sweat off his face, Jack headed for the refrigerator and the promise  
of a cold beer. Upstairs, he heard thunderous footsteps, and he shook his head  
in wonder. Today was a designated chores day, with Jack spending it mowing the  
yard while the boys were supposed to be cleaning their rooms. From the sounds  
of the scampering feet, though, Daniel and Cameron hadn't spent their time  
wisely. Messy rooms meant no movies tonight, and he knew the boys had been  
looking forward to going to see the latest Disney cartoon.

Popping the cap off the bottle, he took a swig - then walked to the base of the  
stairs. "How are those rooms coming?" he hollered, pressing the cool glass to  
his forehead briefly. When no answer came, he shook his head. "I'm going to  
take a shower. When I get finished, your quarters had better be ready for  
inspection, airmen!"

"Yes, Daddy!" Cammie and Danny shouted back. Little feet thudded across the  
floor again, and Jack chuckled to himself and headed for the master bath.

His boys were pretty well behaved youngsters, though Cammie had a tendency to  
make trouble for himself by engaging in all manner of wild stunts. Danny rarely  
actively sought trouble, but just as it had when he was an adult under Jack's  
command, trouble always managed to find him. When it came to their chores, both  
boys grumbled but eventually did what they were told. Cammie was always faster  
and more efficient at cleaning his room than Danny was--he probably had his  
barely-remembered military training to thank for that--because the pint-sized  
archaeologist was so easily distracted, and not always by his mischievous  
brother.

"Oh, this is going to be good, I just know it." Stripping off his sweaty clothes  
and leaving them in a pile, Jack turned the taps and turned his mind to what to  
prepare for dinner.

He took his time with his shower, enjoying the feel of warm water sluicing over  
his grimy skin, and hoping the boys would take the opportunity to properly  
finish their rooms. He didn't want to see objects stuffed into drawers and  
closets like the last time, and had made this very clear to his wide-eyed boys  
in the stern lecture, which followed. Jack only hoped it had stuck with them.

Finally, he was clean, dry, and dressed. "Ready or not," he announced as he  
started up the steps, "here I come."

As expected, there was a last frantic scramble of little feet, then the little  
airmen appeared at the door of Danny's room. As always, the blond-haired boy's  
guilt was evident in his posture--wrapped in a self-contained hug and refusing  
to meet his dad's gaze--but to Jack's surprise, his darker-haired boy was just  
as shifty. Scanning the boys' rooms and forcing down the knowing smile which  
threatened to take over his face, Jack knew that if he scratched the surface, an  
avalanche of clothes and toys would topple on top of the wide-eyed little boys.

Tapping his foot and using his very best general voice, he asked, "So, airmen,  
everything where it should be? Nothing stashed under the beds? Drawers not full  
of Legos and toy cars?" Arms folded casually across his stomach, Jack crossed  
his ankles, pinning the nervous children with a stern look.

Shuffling his bare feet and scrunching his toes into the rug, Cammie took a deep  
breath and let loose with the best strategy he'd been able to come up with on  
such short notice. "Daddy, I always help Danny 'cause he's not as 'squared  
away' as me, but Danny and me couldn't tidy our rooms proper! Look!" Grabbing  
Danny's left hand in his right, and holding both of their hands in the air only  
briefly, Cammie tackled his daddy's knees howling a pitiful sob. "My hand is  
hurt, and Danny's fingers were bent backwards!" Clenching his fist and yelping  
for added sympathy, Cammie rubbed his nose back and forth on Jack's jeans. "It  
was horrible, Daddy, I thought Danny's fingers would snap off!"

Looking from one tear stained little face to the other; Jack tried to process  
the new and terrible information, puzzling only briefly over why the boys hadn't  
said anything when they first came home. Lightly brushing Danny's hand and  
wincing as the little archaeologist cringed, Jack hunkered to his knees and said  
kindly, "Was it a fight at school? Did you tell Miss Bumstead? Have I got a note  
about this?"

"N-n-note?" Daniel couldn't control his horrified stammer, and looking stunned,  
repeated feebly, "N-n-note?"

"Mm. Should have had a note about something like this. Cam, check your bag; I'll  
check Danny's."

"No note, Daddy! They all got us behind the swings, Mizz Bumstead wouldn't've  
seen!" Cam rolled his shoulders and let one little white lie after the other  
roll of his tongue.

Daniel felt the room spin, and it was all he could do not to fall over in  
terror. He had just opened his mouth to explain that there was no fight and his  
fingers were fine, but Cam jumped in quickly. "Billy McNamara started it! He's  
a bully, an' he picks on us all the time!" Swiping at his eyes, Cam grabbed his  
brother's hand and murmured, "Ack-tcha-lee, Daddy, it's Danny he's mostly mean  
to! I just stepped in to 'tect him! We soldiers never leave anyone behind,  
right?" Blinking up at his daddy with soulful eyes, Cam managed just the right  
amount of tears to shine and only threaten to spill. "Daddy, are you mad at me  
for not 'tectin' Danny betta?"

"What? No, of course not!" Jack was a canny man, a keen diplomat, and a smart  
soldier, but he was also a complete sucker when it came to his blue-eyed  
children. He looked at the morose, freckled little faces, and felt a lump  
constrict in his throat. 'Crap,' he thought, 'it's those swimming lessons all  
over again! How do I miss these things? Danny bullied? Cammie beat up? Oh,  
Miss Bumstead will be hearing from me!'

Sweeping the children into a warm hug, he whispered into Cam's ear, "It's okay,  
Daddy will make sure this McNamara kid leaves you guys alone!" Rocking back  
onto the heels of his shoes and throwing his hand down to balance himself, he  
added softly, "Let's just enjoy the movie tonight so you two can forget about  
those sore little hands." Kissing Cam's fingers and making him giggle; General  
Jonathan O'Neill inwardly promised dire retribution to anyone who dare hurt his  
blue-eyed boys.

For his part, Cammie couldn't believe he'd gotten himself and Danny off so  
easily. After their daddy went back downstairs to start dinner, he pulled his  
open-mouthed brother into his room and pulled the door shut. "You owe me big  
time, Danny!" he crowed triumphantly. Jumping onto Daniel's bed and kicking legs  
in the air, Cam grinned happily. "Well? Wotch-'a gonna say? Thanks, Cam! You're  
a genius!"

"Geroff my bed, fly dope!" Daniel wasn't so sure about any of this. Shrugging  
his shoulders, he knew Jack was nowhere near as gullible as he sometimes  
pretended. "You shouldn't have lied to Daddy," he protested, wrapping his arms  
around himself and sitting on the edge of his bed. "What if he calls Miss  
Bumstead and she says we weren't in a fight?"

The little colonel rolled his eyes. "Pfff... It's Friday, an' Daddy'll probably  
forget by Monday. What's the big deal? We're not in trouble, an' we woulda  
been if Daddy'd looked at our rooms!"

Danny wrung his fingers fretfully. "I suppose so," he agreed reluctantly. "But  
what if he finds out we lied, Cammie? We'll be in big, big trouble, then!"  
Thinking of the spare room and the dire connotations of visiting it with their  
daddy, Dan swallowed noisily. "You shouldn't have lied!"

"Don't go tattlin' an' he won't find out!" Cam declared with the confidence of a  
natural-born leader. "C'mon, Danny! An' don't you go 'n' forget your hand  
hurts, 'member?

"

0808080

The weekend passed reasonably uneventfully, but then Jack invited Sara for  
Sunday lunch. At the table, he told her about the boys' fight at school, and  
Cammie was all-too happy to nod and clutch his "wounded" hand in all the  
appropriate places. He was proud of how heroic and brave he sounded in the  
story, sticking up for his brother. Danny was too busy being a stick-in-the-mud  
to enjoy any sympathetic attention that might come his way, but at least he  
hadn't tattled yet.

Sara listened and instantly smelled a chocolate chip cookie-eating little rat.  
She arched her eyebrow at Cammie when the story was finished. "Mm, that must  
have been scary, boys. Cameron, where was your teacher?" Watching the casual  
little shoulder roll, Sara couldn't help but remember another shifty little boy.  
Tapping her lips with her index finger, she recalled Charlie was about Cam's age  
when he had started to tell little white lies. Looking at Jack and seeing he  
believed every word, Sara decided to dig a little deeper.

"That right, Cam? How is it that we have only just heard about this terrible  
schoolyard bully?" Snapping her fingers and watching Danny's color drain from  
his face, she ordered, "Daniel, run and get me the playmates list; I'll see if I  
recognize the family."

Danny blinked and lowered his eyes, feeling the room spin again. He didn't hear  
her repeat the request--the blood was pounding too loudly in his ears. He knew  
if they were caught out in the lie, it would straight to the spare bedroom for  
the dreaded smacked bottom, followed by early bedtimes or no ice cream... or  
worse, both! Stuttering and feeling his eyes begin to water, Danny slipped his  
hands behind his jean-clad butt and opened his mouth to confess to the heinous  
crime.

Sensing his brother wavering and well aware of the consequences, Cam quickly  
interrupted. "Oh no, Sara, there's no point! McNamara's are a milit'ry family,  
and his daddy is away in Afa-gah-in-stand now. Mrs. McNamara had ta moved back  
East to be with her momma, and so we won't have to worry anymore! He had a  
going away party this weekend, but Danny and me weren't invited! Ever 'one else  
was 'cept us!" Sniffing dramatically and batting his eyelashes, he murmured,  
"'Sides, Danny is my best friend, and I don' need anyone else."

Turning in his chair and giving Danny a subtle kick to his tender shin, Cam  
narrowed his eyes and repeated, "If I haf my brother, I don' need anyone else!"

Looking at Cammie with horror and seeing the adults smiling with pride, Danny  
felt sick. This was deceitful and wrong, and the lies were piling up thick and  
fast. Ordinarily, he did everything within his powers to stay out of trouble,  
but Cam gleefully trod a fine line. At the moment, Danny was fearful he'd  
topple off that fine line himself. "It doesn't matter how big you are," Jack  
once told his boys, not long after their short foray into the legal field, "a  
man's integrity is too precious to sell." Suddenly, Danny didn't think getting  
to see that movie Friday was worth the price, but if he tattled now, Cammie  
would never forgive him. "That's what brothers do," he agreed morosely.

0808080

"Jack O'Neill, you've been hoodwinked," Sara declared, helping her ex-husband  
clear the dishes while the boys dashed outside to play.

"Have I, now?" Jack asked, adopting a look of feigned shock.

"Mmhmm... you know darn good and well that Cameron was fibbing," she accused.

Jack shrugged. "You saw how uncomfortable Danny was with the whole thing. I'd  
bet Cammie was giving things a little spin so that Danny wouldn't feel so bad  
about being teased at school. Daniel always--" He caught himself before he let  
slip that the adult Daniel had always been a target for bullies. "Daniel's  
usually so shy and quiet," he amended.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Remember Charlie at that age? How he'd tell whoppers to  
his teacher, mess with the other students' belongings, and pretend all the while  
his imaginary friend 'Jake' was responsible for any wrong-doings?" She shook  
her head in dismay, remembering the letters sent home that were eventually found  
stashed in Charlie's keepsake box, but not until after the exasperated teacher  
had had the school principal phone the O'Neills to find out why nothing was  
being done about Charlie's behavior. Charlie had been grounded for two whole  
months for that fiasco.

"I'll keep an eye out for imaginary friends, then," Jack grinned impishly. "I  
don't think we'll have to worry about it, though, since Charlie had an imaginary  
friend 'cause he was an only child, and he missed me. I'm home now, and Daniel  
and Cameron have each other, and like they said earlier, that's all they need."  
Warming up to the idea, he continued, "They'll help each other, protect each  
other, and keep each other out of trouble. It's what brothers do."

Still looking skeptical, Sara plopped the last plate into the dishwasher and  
crossed her arms. "Unlike you, Jack, I had brothers growing up. Believe me  
when I say those boys are going to be far better at keeping themselves in  
trouble than they are keeping one another out of it."

"Maybe."

"Definitely!"

0808080

As Cammie had predicted, Jack forgot all about calling Miss Bumstead on  
Monday--though the little colonel couldn't have known his daddy forgot only  
because of a late-to-report team. Faced with proof that his boisterous brother  
was right about their teacher not being called, Danny relaxed a little and dared  
to hope that the whole lying incident might be forgotten. He even vowed to keep  
his room clean all week so that he wouldn't have to panic again on Friday, but  
that promise lasted only until late Monday evening, when he forgot all about it  
and left books and clothes strewn everywhere following a frantic search for his  
favorite yo-yo.

Everything came crashing back to him Tuesday, when he dipped his brush in the  
yellow paint and found himself smearing purple and muddy brown streaks on his  
rendering of the Great Pyramids. Horrified that he'd accidentally ruined his  
painting by dipping his brush in the wrong pot, Danny checked and discovered  
that someone had poured purple paint into the jar of yellow. Feeling his heart  
pound with dread, he turned to see Cammie looking terribly pleased with himself  
as he painted a fighter jet with a brush full of intermixed blue and orange  
paints.

"Cammie!" he hissed, looking around frantically to see if anyone else had  
noticed the messed-up paints. "Why'd you do that?"

"I di'n't do it," Cammie whispered back, "Jake did it!"

"Who's Jake?" Danny asked, brow crinkling as he worked his way through the  
playmate list.

"Charlie's best friend Jake," his brother replied, rolling his eyes as though  
the answer should have been obvious.

Danny's mouth made a surprised "oh". "Cammie! Oh, Cammie, you shouldn't have  
done that! What if Miss Bumstead sends a note home to Daddy?"

"She won't," the little colonel answered confidently, "unless you tattle. You  
aren't gonna tattle, are ya Danny?" Shifting close to his brother, Cam brushed  
his fingers past Danny's and gave them a quick squeeze. "M'ember, we're each  
ov'ers bestest friends!"

Glancing between his ruined painting and the sabotaged pots of paint, Danny  
frowned seriously and thought hard about what he wanted to do. Letting his  
fingers stay in Cams, Daniel sighed softly, knowing he could never get his  
brother into trouble.

"Please don't tattle on me, Danny! Somebody had to've tattled on Charlie; else,  
he wouldn't've had a letter sent home to Daddy and Sara. I bet they were lots  
mad when they got that, and I don't want Sara or Daddy to be lots mad at me."

Seeing the earnest expression on his brother's face, Danny gave in and nodded.  
"I won't tattle on you, Cammie."

"Cross your heart an' hope to die?"

Danny gulped. Dying didn't sound at all fun. "Cross my heart," he promised,  
"but I don' wanna die."

0808080

The trip to the market had been odd. Usually the little family shopped happily,  
Jack calling out what he wanted and a blonde projectile scampering away to fetch  
it. The children would cheerfully debate which cereal was better, and ignoring  
the hopeful sugar-laden selection, Jack dumped in the standard box of Cheerios.  
After shopping-- providing their behavior didn't embarrass the crap out of  
him--there were milkshakes and chocolate muffins for a morning snack.

Today, the kids walked around silently, pointedly ignoring each other. When Jack  
had suggested the great treat, Dan and Cam sat silently, glowering at each other  
and slurping their flavored milk loudly. Drinking his coffee and finally giving  
up on trying to get them to chat, the General sighed and said, "Okay, obviously  
you boys need a nap, come on, you can finish the muffins at home."

"Not tired, Daddy!" grumbled Daniel, edging as far away from Cam's swinging feet  
as he could. "Ow! Daddeee, he kicked me!"

"Di'n't Daddy! My foot slipp'd!" Glowering and poking his tongue out when he was  
sure Jack wasn't looking, Cam muttered, "Only tattlin' babies need to nap,  
right, Daniel?"

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

"Flydork!"

"Word geek!"

"Enough! That's a one and a two for the pair of you knuckleheads, and a three  
will mean sitting on smacked bottoms. Now, I mean it, no more running tales,  
Daniel! Cameron, if your foot feels the urge to slip again, I'll be very  
irritated. Clear?"

"Yes, Daddy, but he started it!"

"Yup, an' I nev-ah!"

Narrowing his eyes at the warring parties, Jack growled his final warning and  
hurried them to the truck. He didn't mind leaving the mall early, the game was  
on and he had a million and one chores to do. Buckling the boys in and handing  
them their toys, he turned up the radio and tuned into a game.

Glowering quietly in the backseat, mindful of their last warning, the two best  
friends folded their arms, both lost in troubled and not-so-troubled thoughts.  
Cam couldn't understand why his brother was so worried: as far as he was  
concerned they were home free. Daniel hated the idea of keeping secrets, and the  
wiser of the two, knew they trod a fine line.

Opening the back door of the truck and watching the boys exit their car seats  
like bullets; Jack grabbed the grocery bags, and shrugging, leaned against the  
door to listen to the final play of the morning. "Oh crap! Who's playing this  
game? Tinkerbelle and the faeries from the bottom of the garden?" Snorting with  
disgust at the score, he forgot all about his oddly-behaved children... for as  
long as it took him to get up the front walk and across the porch.

Jack heard his children bickering from the moment he walked into the house.  
Raising his eyes and dumping the groceries onto the kitchen table, he listened  
curiously. The boys rarely bickered, but something had obviously irritated the  
crap out of them. By the sounds of the spiteful comments flying back and forth,  
it was each other.

Down the hallway, the high-pitched sounds of recriminations flew thick and  
fast. "You are such a stoopid rock dweeb! Wish I put black in your paint pot! "

Shaking his head, Jack heard the indignant little dweeb hotly refute the  
outrageous claim. "Am not! Least I'm not a fly dope and a paint vandal! I'm so  
telling Daddy on you!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Jack sighed, and shining an apple on his jacket, strolled down the hallway to  
play his stern, parental role. Taking a huge bite from the apple, he grinned  
wolfishly and murmured, "Have an apple, boys, what could go wrong." Walking into  
the bedroom and clearing his throat loudly, Jack growled, "Children? Tell Daddy  
what exactly?"

Danny jumped with fright, and open-mouthed, he whirled around to face the  
unexpected and unwanted intruder. Swallowing and feeling his cheeks burn, he  
squeaked, "Daddy! Nothing, Cam and I were just playing Marines." Lowering his  
head, Danny hated that lies now fell so easily from his own mouth.

Cam stood frozen with horror and shock, his brain trying to process the  
undeniable fact that Jack must have heard their conversation. Opening his mouth,  
the little colonel felt torn between the desire to howl or throw a spectacular  
tantrum. He thought this all Danny's fault, if he hadn't threatened to tell  
Sara, he wouldn't have yelled about the paint pots. Swallowing nervously and  
searching his mind for the perfect get out of jail free lie, Cam looked into  
Jack's face and smiled hopefully.

Bunching his hands on his hips, Cam took a deep breath and started his new line  
of truth, Cameron O'Neill style. "Yup! "S'right, Daddy, I was 'tendin' to be  
Major Griff and Danny here's bein' Col'nel Dixon." Shrugging with his Southern  
boyish charm, he added," Wanna stay 'n play? You can fly the Mothaship if ya  
wanna!"

Sara's words filtering slowly through his brain, Jack searched one little boy's  
face and then the other. Cam slouched with practiced nonchalance, hands shoved  
into his overstuffed jeans pockets and ball cap on backward. His red t-shirt was  
crumpled and slightly stained, and naturally, his socks were mismatched. Yep,  
Jack thought, nothing wrong there. Swiveling around, he studied his other  
child's face and arched an interested eyebrow.

Mm, this is the look of the condemned and the damned. Daniel stood ramrod  
straight, his eyes blinking quickly and his fingers clenching and unclenching  
nervously. Shifting the weight from one foot to the other, the little  
archaeologist looked as though he would burst into tears at any moment.

Determined to stop the morning's nonsense before it ended in those tears, Jack  
narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. "Anything you feel like  
sharing with me, Daniel?" Moving closer to his intended victim, he added, "Maybe  
you'd like to explain to me why you were saying those mean things to your  
brother?" Kneeling down and grabbing his hands, Jack added firmly, "We've talked  
before about how we talk to each other in this family, and I think an afternoon  
tidying the playroom by yourself might jog your memory."

Turning the open-mouthed boy around and pointing to the door, he patted the  
jean-clad little bottom sharply and ordered, "Move, mister! I'll call you for  
lunch." Wagging his fingers for Cam to take, Jack said in a tone that didn't  
match the lightness his words, "Come on, peanut, you can help put away the  
groceries and tell me what you were really fighting about."

Cameron spent the weekend perpetuating his campaign of lies and misinformation.

Danny spent his weekend tidying rooms and sulking about life's many injustices.

Gently interrogating one child and then the other, General O'Neill decided to  
delegate, and call in the diplomatic corp. "Sara? Now's good, actually. Come  
for a cup of coffee and a slice of insanity?" Laughing softly, Jack explained  
the worsening state of affairs surrounding Team O'Neill.

Placing the phone into its cradle and throwing her keys in the air, Sara  
muttered, "Well, who knew those boys weren't up to any good." Switching the  
alarm on and watching the red button flash obediently, she added, "Oh, hang on!  
I did." Shaking her head, she wondered how she could make Jack see a little  
blue-eyed terrorist was manipulating him.

0808080

"Cameron," Danny hissed in horror," that's Nicky's snack, and you shouldn't have  
eaten it! Oh, no! Why are you opening Jordan's lunch box? Hey, you can't swap  
that! Suppose he doesn't like banana and jam sandwiches?" Danny shuddered at the  
thought of the food combination and thought privately that swapping was the best  
thing in the end. He didn't like Nicky, and rubbing his arm, looked at the  
purple bruise still evident.

Poking his tongue out, Cam's face crinkled into a mischievous grin. "What's the  
good of being a hall monitor if you can't get back at the bullies?" His sweet  
voice taking an odd tone of menace and cunning, he scowled. "Nicky's always  
pickin' on ya, Dan. Now, let's see how he likes bein' tattled on!"

0808080

Miss Bumstead rubbed her eyes tiredly, worried about Cam's imaginary and  
extremely naughty friend, Jake. She had written two letters to General O'Neill  
outlining her concerns, but received no response. Sighing and tapping her pencil  
on her desk, she decided to allow Cam to be a joint hall monitor with Danny,  
hoping the responsible little boy would rub off on his high-spirited and  
occasionally irresponsible brother

Imaginary friends, she read, were a child's coping mechanism or the result of  
loneliness or bullying. She watched Cameron carefully and knew he was a  
popular--if slightly forceful--little boy. No, she had decided, that is neither  
a bullied nor a lonely child. Sighing with regret, she figured Cam's behavior  
was plain attention seeking, and he merely enjoyed showing off.

The tears and tantrums following lunch had astounded the normally unflappable  
Miss Bumstead. Children ran crying to her, shoving empty lunch boxes or soggy  
banana sandwiches under her nose. Empty candy wrappers were duly investigated,  
bitten apples were discarded, and lunch money handed to the starving and  
inexplicably lunch-less. Narrowing her eyes at the sight of the whistling child,  
and the uncomfortable-looking boy next to him, Miss Bumstead knew she had made  
an error in judgment. "Cameron O'Neill, come here this instant! Daniel O'Neill,  
you can just follow right behind!"

"Yes, Mizz Bumstead?" Blinking with wide-eyed innocence, Cam searched his  
thoughts for the quickest and easiest lie to spin to his teacher. "I don't know  
who made this mess, but I think it coulda bin Jake!"

Daniel groaned. "Shut up, Cameron, you'll only make this worse." Shuffling  
forward, picturing all his carefully earned green stars disappearing, the little  
archaeologist heard the tapping of the gallows being built all around him. "We  
are so going to get it now!"

"Nope! 'Member, it's all Jake's fault!"

"So going to get it."

Sitting in the lunchroom and stirring another sugar into her tea, Miss Bumstead  
sought her peer's advice. "Cameron O'Neill is a sweetie, but gosh! Is he acting  
up! When I call him on his behavior, he swears it's not him but his friend Jake.  
I've sent a couple of messages home to his father, General O'Neill, but so far  
I've heard nothing from him." Dimpling and throwing her head back, she added  
quietly, "More's the pity!"

Looking up from her crossword puzzle, the family name tweaking a long forgotten  
memory, Mrs. Spears, nee Ebert, cleared her throat discreetly. "Uma? Tell me,  
is General O'Neill an Air Force man? Tall, wiry, and a good sense of humor?  
Married to a blonde woman called Susan? Samantha? No!" she exclaimed with  
satisfaction, "it was Sally!"

Shaking her red curls and making them bounce prettily, Uma said, "Oh, no! Jack,  
er, General O'Neill isn't married! I'm certain he's a single parent." A  
predatory look of determination crossing her face, she nodded her head with  
finality. "No, I haven't met anyone called Sally O'Neill."

Shrugging her shoulders and picking up her pencil, taking a thoughtful chew,  
Mrs. Spears muttered, "Mm, why does that name and these pranks sound so familiar  
then?" The sounds of laughing children broke her thoughts, and Mrs. Spears  
pushed the worrisome conversation to the back of her mind.

080808

Called to stay back after class, Cameron and Daniel slid back into their chairs  
and gulping, threw guilty glances at each other. Miss Bumstead had thought long  
and hard about Cameron's prank, and feeling slightly irked by the mention of a  
Mrs. O'Neill, took matters into her manicured hands. Prepared to accept an  
apology on behalf of the class, she listened with exasperation as Cam shifted  
the blame to his imaginary friend. "I declare, Cameron O'Neill, you have just  
gone too far." Tapping Daniel on the nose, she added, "And I am very  
disappointed with my little hall monitor." Dropping his eyes to the floor,  
Daniel nodded his head and whispered an apology.

"Sorry, Miss Bumstead, I understand if you have to appoint a new hall monitor."  
The look of such profound misery on Danny's face caught at Uma's heart, and she  
promised she would think about any punishments very carefully. Spearing her gaze  
towards Cam, she frowned as she came face to face with his cheeky grin. "'Spose  
Jake can be the new monitor!" Dropping his eyes to the floor, Cam stifled the  
giggle that threatened to escape. This had been a great game, and the little  
colonel was enjoying himself far too much to consider the result of this day's  
work.

Uma Bumstead considered the result all too well and put into motion events that  
would eventually bring Cam's tricks and scams under full parental scrutiny.  
Still oblivious, Cam thought about the backpacks he'd hidden in the girls'  
locker rooms and threw his hand over his mouth to stop laughing. The two  
bag-less boys were frantic, and howling their outrage, walked hand-in-hand with  
the wincing gym teacher. Glancing at the miserable boys and then back to Cam's  
smug face, Uma rolled her eyes.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary, Cameron." She decided this game had  
gone on far too long and guiding them towards the principal's office, she made  
her decision. Calling Jack at home, she took a deep breath and outlined exactly  
what had transpired at school that day.

"General O'Neill? It's Uma Bumstead. Miss Bumstead. Cameron's teacher? Yes,  
that's right, the redhead." Dimpling with pleasure at the warm voice on the end  
of the phone, she almost regretted having to explain her call. Almost.

A dedicated teacher, she had growing concerns over Cammie's imaginary friend,  
Jake, and wanted the small boy to understand the meaning of cause and effect.  
The more Cam thought he could get away with blaming Jake, the bolder his  
naughtiness became, and finally, the swapping of food had been his downfall.  
Picturing buck-toothed Molly Millhouse, peanut butter cookie halfway to her  
mouth, made Uma shiver. Allergic to nuts, the little girl would have been in  
serious trouble, and all because of a thoughtless prank. No, she decided, Jake  
the fake is leaving school today!

Listening to the blunt conversation regarding his child's list of crimes, Jack  
closed his eyes and felt the room spin out of control. Mrs. Spears may have  
forgotten who the prankster had been all those years ago, but he hadn't. "This  
can't be happening? Jake? An imaginary friend called Jake?"

Grabbing a kitchen chair and half falling into it, Jack recalled a similar  
discussion about another naughty boy, with another kindhearted teacher. Charlie,  
he thought, these are the half-assed stunts Charlie pulled! When Uma's insistent  
voice roused him from his thoughts, Jack tersely agreed that he would be there.  
"Give me fifteen minutes; I would like to bring a family friend if that's okay."  
Giving Uma no chance to agree or disagree, the general terminated the  
conversation before he became emotional and made a fool of himself. "Sara, I'll  
call Sara, she'll know what to do."

Twisting the cord in her fingers and replaying the conversation in her mind, Uma  
smiled. "Friend! I knew there was no Sally O'Neill!" Jumping to her feet and  
crooking her finger at the O'Neill boys, she said sternly, "Okay, we will have  
an afternoon snack and then your daddy should be here. We have a lot to discuss,  
don't we, Cameron?" Watching the smug little boy's face blanch, she almost  
wavered, but remembering the lunchtime chaos, she hardened her resolve. "No,  
that sad little boy act isn't going to work, mister, and if you even think to  
blame anyone but yourself, I will be very annoyed. You are going to have to face  
the consequences of your actions."

Seeing the flat look of disapproval on his pretty teacher's face, Cam  
figured his Southern charm wasn't going to wash. It finally dawned on him that  
he'd gone too far, and with the luxury of hindsight, wondered what possessed him  
to think Charlie's pranks had sounded so funny. Daniel had tried to tell him  
that Jack and Sara would have been furious, but he'd refused to listen.  
Irritated teachers glaring at him, class bullies glaring at him, and the  
knowledge that Jack was on his way made him feel sick. Slumping into his chair,  
he swallowed noisily and thought of a certain spare bedroom that probably would  
have his name printed on its door.

From the corner of his eye, Dan saw Nicky Rossi and Billy McNamara bunch their  
chubby little fists at him, and closing his eyes, felt the promised ache of a  
dead arm.

All in all, the day had been a disaster and would only get worse. With their  
freckled faces burning with shame, Cam and Dan shifted uncomfortably on blue  
plastic chairs outside the principal's office, waiting for the sword of Damocles  
to fall.

0808080

"Sara? It's Jack. Let's get one thing squared away: you were right about the  
boys and I was wrong. Okay? They are up to their necks in mischief, but you are  
not going to believe how." Rubbing his hand through his hair, mindful of how  
painful the memory would be, Jack explained about Cameron, vandalized paint  
cartons, squashed banana sandwiches, and the revival of the fake Jake. "So, how  
do you think my monkeys found out about Charlie's pranks?" Waiting for Sara to  
catch her breath, Jack played with the coins in his pockets, anything to keep  
his hands busy. "Sara?"

"Yup, I'm here. Well, that's sure a blast from the past. What's the plan?"

"United we stand, divided I fall into a mess?"

"So, flyboy, nothing's changed then."

The warm surety of her voice calming him, Jack finally let out the breath he'd  
been holding. Searching the tabletops and eventually patting his pockets down  
for his keys, he puzzled, "Sara, I just don't get this! How on Earth could  
Cammie have known about those stunts Charlie pulled over a decade ago? Did you  
tell him?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, Jack felt the years fall away.  
Blinking, he pictured Charlie, head bent, confessing to all his heinous crimes  
against innocent paints, squished sandwiches, and lost library books. There had  
been hell to pay, and Charlie never hid notes in his little shoebox again. Of  
course, Jack thought sadly, he hadn't had the time. In a few short years, he had  
been gone. "Oh, Charlie."

Hearing the dull ache in Jack's voice, Sara closed her eyes. On a lovely spring  
day, years ago, she had sat in her kitchen and worried. Charlie had been playing  
the fool, and fed up, she warned him, "Daddy will be home soon." He adored his  
daddy, and when Jack had to go away, missed him terribly. One day, unexpectedly,  
he dreamt up an imaginary friend called Jake. Jake was everything Charlie  
wasn't. He was messy, he was rude, and he played cruel tricks. Sara despaired,  
and tried everything she could think to make Charlie take responsibility for his  
own actions. Eventually, the principal had rung, and when Jack came home that  
week, he put Jake to bed once and for all. Now, unbelievably, she was having the  
same conversation, with the same man, about the same problem, ten years later.  
Different kid, though, she thought sadly.

Shaking her head, she decided to put the past where it belonged and deal with  
the present. She had a very good idea where Cam got the Jake idea. "No, Jack,  
why would I? That child doesn't need any hints from me to get into God-awful  
mischief. My guess, flyboy, would be Charlie's box of tricks. Remember, the  
shoebox Pops gave him for his baseball cards?" Sara sighed softly at the memory  
of the little box with the Labrador puppy on it, and brushed away an errant  
tear. Taking a deep breath and pushing her sadness away for the time being, she  
murmured, "Didn't you store Charlie's things in the attic last spring?" Phone  
hunched under her chin as she raced through the house looking for keys and bag,  
she panted, "I'll meet you at the school. After we get our collective asses  
smacked, we'll come home and discuss it as a family, okay?"

"Meet you there... and Sara? Yeah, we will, as a family." Placing the phone in  
its cradle, Jack sighed. "Okay, children, this had so better be good."

808080

Walking into the schoolyard, Sara coughed, and stared at the empty swings  
creaking in the warm breeze. This was going to be harder than she thought.  
Feeling Jack squeeze her hand, she nodded, and lifted her chin in the air.  
"Okay, I can do this. We need to find room 511a." Counting the door numbers, she  
exclaimed, "Ah, here we are." Walking in, she looked around the bright, cheery  
classroom and felt her heart suddenly soar. A feeling of optimism swept through  
her, and even though she was annoyed with the little pranksters, she knew they  
never meant to hurt her. Hiding her smile behind her hand, she searched out the  
boys' guilt ridden faces and shook her finger at them sternly. "Well, well, this  
is a fine state of affairs! "

"Hello, Sara." Daniel looked at her beseechingly. "Sorry to make you miss the  
Bold and the Beautiful."

"Howdy, Sara. Are you gonna take us home?" Cameron slid his eyes across to  
Jack's disapproving face, and sighing softly, added, "Please?"

"No 'hello Daddy'?" Jack growled, "And no, mister, she is not. You and I have a  
lot to discuss."

"Do we?"

"We do."

"Nuts!"

When Sara and Jack walked in, arms casually linked, Uma's smile froze on her  
face, but shaking it off, got right down to business. If Jack noticed the  
exchange between Sara and Uma, he didn't comment. He had been too busy glaring  
at his fallen angels. The angels themselves looked anywhere but back at him, and  
for once, Cameron wore a look of guilt that exceeded the one on Daniel's face.

Ignoring the wordless warnings Jack sent the boys, thinking they deserved  
everything they had coming, Sara nodded at the young teacher. "Miss Bumstead?  
I'm Sara O'Neill." Holding her hand out and smiling warmly, she allowed a tiny  
smile to tug at her lips as she took a seat. Patting the tiny chair next to her,  
she breathed, "Honey? Sit here?" Looking at the chair meant for a six-year-old's  
butt, the General groaned under his breath.

"Wonder where Charlie got his lame sense of humor from," hissed Jack.

"Oh, probably the dubious Irish genes he had flowing through his veins. Poor  
kid."

"Yeah, right." Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he felt his  
spirits surprisingly lift. If Sara could laugh about this, then so could he. Not  
that Cameron would be excused. Charlie had learned his lesson, and he'd make  
darn sure his littlest colonel would as well. But boys will be boys, and he  
figured he'd file this drama away to be brought up and laughed over later. Much  
later. Much, much later. Like when Cameron had children of his own, later.  
Sitting on the chair made for people under four feet tall, Jack looked at Sara  
carefully.

Elbowing him gently, she whispered, "You're on, I believe. Go get 'em, tiger."

"Children," he growled. A crooked finger was all it took to have the boys,  
dented halos and all, shuffle across the room and stand at Jack's knees. Cameron  
bravely plastered a watery smile on his face, and looking into the pair of stern  
parental eyes, breathed, "Hello, Daddy. Hello Sara, fancy meetin' ya'll here."

"Cameron," Jack and Sara said in unison, "be quiet."

Looking up, chewing his lip with trepidation, Daniel waggled his fingers at Sara  
and sighed at Jack. "Are we going to get it? We are, aren't we? We are sooo  
going to get it. I told Cam, don't do it, 'cause we are going to get it!"  
Feeling himself fly through the air and bounce onto his dad's lap, Daniel  
squeaked with fright, "Oh, we are so going to get it!"

Cameron was given a week's detention, meaning no recess or lunchtime playing  
with the other children. He had to sit with Miss Bumstead and eat his food  
alone. For a social little boy like Cam, there could be no worse punishment.  
He'd miss all the baseball games, heads-up-seve-up tournaments, and the banned  
Yu-gi-oh! card swapping. Tears rolling down his face, he hugged his teacher's  
leg and promised that the imaginary Jake was kaput.

Daniel had his hall monitor button confiscated and given to an ecstatic Molly  
Millhouse for an entire week. The shame and embarrassment of being busted down  
to a regular kid made him burst into noisy tears, but Uma coolly stood her  
ground. "Every action has a cause and effect, Daniel. You knew what Cameron was  
doing was wrong and yet you said nothing. This is the price of misguided  
loyalty. "

8080808

Tears of regret were shed. Heartfelt promises earnestly made were earnestly  
accepted. Sent packing, Jake the fake exited the O'Neill family home for the  
second time. Growling, Jack made sure Cameron understood who the real culprit  
had been. "If I hear Jake is back in town, I guarantee you will be one very  
sorry little boy, got it? "Sensing his daddy meant business, Cammie quickly  
decided imaginary friends weren't worth the trouble they caused. " 'Kay, does  
that mean I'm not in trouble now?"

"What do you think? Pretending to being bullied? Causing all sorts of trouble at  
school? Dragging your brother into another harebrained scheme?" Glaring at the  
little archaeologist as he tried to back out to the room, he wagged his finger  
in the air. "Ahhttt! Back you come! Gotta be somewhere, Daniel?" Snaking out an  
arm and corralling the little boy, Jack continued with his lecture. "Cameron,  
where was I? Riiight, how about making up stories to wriggle out of chores?  
Shall I continue?" Patting his lap, Jack hauled Cam onto his knee and prodded  
his belly, coolly demanding, "Well, airman? "

"So, I am in trouble?"

Throwing his hands in the air, Jack dumped Cam onto his feet and looking at  
Sara, sighed, "Tag, you're it."

"Oh, please!" Sara held her hand out and gently took Cam's. Fixing the squirming  
child with a stern look, she said, "Cameron, that little box had Charlie's name  
on it, didn't it?" Seeing the little boy nod a fraction, still looking at his  
toes, Sara continued. "So, what made you think you could take it? Did it have  
Cameron written anywhere on it?"

"Nuh-huh." With another tiny shake of his head. Cam looked up at Sara's kind  
face, and started to cry again. "Least I don' think so."

Determined to get through to the headstrong child, Sara squeezed his hand and  
continued, ignoring the tears that steadily fell. "Neither do I! So, when you  
and Daniel read letters that were clearly addressed to your dad and me, you  
invaded our privacy." Lifting Cam's tear stained face to hers, she insisted,  
"Cameron, didn't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Misery and regret showed clearly on Cam's face.

Still, Sara contined."You boys are old enough to know right from wrong, so  
explain to me, what made you take Charlie's stuff and hide it? You could see  
that he was caught, so why pull the same stunts? You know, he was a very sorry  
little boy once your daddy finished with him. If you are so keen on being just  
like Charlie, I guess the punishment should be the same. Jack?"

"Come on, Cam, best you follow me."

Another shrug, another sniff. "No! I don' wanna be just like Charlie anymore!"  
Nose red from crying, he whispered, "I only took Charlie's stuff 'cos Dan knew  
all 'bout Charlie, but I didn't."

Sighing, Jack asked, "All those pranks? Swapping the lunches? Hiding the other  
kids' bags?"

"Dunno, jus 'cos they sounded like fun, I guess." Looking up and shrugging  
nonchalantly, Cam's honesty astounded Sara and amused Jack. "I only hid Billy  
McNamara and stinky Nicky Rossi's, s'all. They're mean, an' always pickin' on  
Dan, so, it served 'em right." Unrepentant and loyal, Cam folded his arms.  
Jutting his chin out, he looked Jack squarely in the eye, daring him to say he'd  
been wrong. Cam would always protect his brother, no matter what the  
consequences may be.

A feeling of love and pride for his little colonel overwhelmed Jack. Looking  
over at the freckled face child, eyes puffy from crying, hand planted  
protectively across his backside, Jack steeled himself to play the stern parent.  
He told Sara later that it had been all he could do not to burst out laughing.  
"Excuse me?" he growled," serves them right to have no lunch? To have their bags  
put in the girls' locker room?" Rolling his eyes at Sara, Jack muttered, "This  
is what I have to put up with!" Moving across the room and sitting on Cam's bed,  
Jack said softly, "Okay, the stupid stunts I'll deal with later, but for now, go  
and get me Charlie's shoe box."

Handing over Charlie's shoebox of memories, Cameron knuckled his eyes and  
blinked away his tears. Truly remorseful for the trouble and pain he'd caused,  
he hugged Jack's neck tightly. Looking into his daddy's sad, brown eyes, Cam  
murmured, "I just wanted to be like Charlie, is all." Sniffing miserably, he  
added," He sounded like such a cool kid!" Running his sleeve under his nose, he  
asked shyly, "Tell me more 'bout my other brother?"

Edging closer, Daniel flung his arm around Cam's shoulder, and patting his back,  
asked, "Daddy, did Charlie like Captain Planet? Did you watch it in bed Sunday  
mornings like we do?"

Sara sighed softly and looking into Jack's eyes, shrugged. Taking a curious  
little boy onto each of their laps, Sara and Jack reminisced, and found  
themselves talking freely for the first time in years about their son. And for  
the first time in years, they laughed and cried together, as a family.

The End


	10. Chapter 10

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Kids and Kittens.

Warnings: None.

Category: Kidfic.

Feedback: Oh, yes please!

oOo

Twas the night before Christmas, and the entire household, mice and all, was stirring.

And stirring…

And stirring…

And stirring…

The Christmas tree so lovingly decorated swayed dangerously back and forth, while the boys ran around it, screeching, "Daddy! Daddeeee, do something! Tiggah is gonna fall!"

Daddy clenched his fists, and forced a very thin smile onto his handsome face. Hair spiky, eyes narrowed, he presented a trapped, slightly demented look of desperation. Unaware that his left eye was beginning to twitch, he lunged for and missed the kamikaze kitten, but made the tree rock and sway like a drunken sailor. With decorations crashing to the ground, Mogliana pounced, and spirited the expensive gold star away to be shredded at her leisure.

"Why didn't I think of that, Daniel? I thought I'd just let the damn tree collapse into the fireplace! Please, get that star away from the other feline maniac." Agilely swooping and catching Cam midair, the general swung the little boy expertly onto his hip, and waving a warning finger under his nose, said," Cameron, if you even _think_ about climbing that tree, so help me…"

Despite Jack's best intentions, the O'Neill house had descended into its customary chaos. The combination of fluffy kittens and decorated Christmas trees in most households were considered cute, endearing, but in the O'Neill house, it morphed into a blood sport.

Cameron stopped flapping his arms about and squeaked, "No! Daddy! Please! Don't let our tree burn down! How will Santa Clause know where to put my new bike?" Folding his arms across his tummy and looking very stern, he added," Sam said you're not allowed to be cranky on Christmas Eve! I'm so telling!"

"Oh, please! The Christmas tree is not going to burn! -- I hope. That lunatic kitten of yours is so looking at a court martial, kiddo. Dumping Cam onto to already shifting feet, Jack growled with menace, "I'll conduct hers and Carter's on the same day."

oOo

Puss, the pet no one remembered buying, had disappeared. He was taken to late night wandering, chatting up the local ladies, and Jack feared he might have danced to the left instead of leaping to the right when crossing the road. The boys were desolate and Jack had put up fliers, albeit begrudgingly. "Opens us to paternity suits!" he grumbled as he walked around the neighborhood in the freezing rain.

Coming back home and stamping his frozen feet, Jack threw his saturated cap onto the chair nearest the fire. Poking at the embers, he muttered, "Cie la vie!" Desperately trying to insinuate himself in front of the dying fire, he looked at Carter's stony expression, and arching an eyebrow, mouthed, "What?"

Sam glowered, and moving aside, wisely said nothing. Cam burst into noisy, theatrical tears, but Daniel blinked sadly, morosely trailing out of the room. Finding his littlest archeologist sitting by the never used kitty litter tray, Jack decided that another kitten wouldn't really hurt.

That was mistake number one

Arriving bright and early the next morning armed with a tiny wicker basket stuffed with toy mice, Sam grinned, and pointedly pushed past a horrified Jack. Gently scooping each kitten under its belly and carefully placing it into the folded arms of its new owner, Carter smiled at the boys' awed little faces. "Oh, Sam, wow! A kitten each?"

Jack rolled his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. "Gee, Carter, you shouldn't have. I mean, you _really_ shouldn't have**. **At Carter's genuinely puzzled expression, Jack looked at the green-eyed kittens and sighed greatly. "Carter, don't you have anything better to do than to irritate your superior officer? Is there not a sun that needs blowing up? A naquada generator turning critical as we speak? A galaxy to infest?"

"Infest? No, pretty much got the save the world infestation thing under control this morning. So, sir, are you going to invite me in for breakfast?" Carter grinned cheekily, looking more than a little pleased with herself.

"Wasn't planning to."

Oh… Well, I thought I could give the boys some instructions on how to care for the kittens, but if you'd rather…"

"Eggs, okay?" Jack asked hurriedly. "And tea, right? Black."

Sam nodded, not bothering to hide her smile. "Thank you, sir. That would be great."

Dan christened his kitten Mogliana, but minus several milk teeth, Cam shortened it to Mogs.

Cam christened his tabby kitten Tiggah.

Jack christened his anticipated headache with Tylenol.

The pretty bundles of teeth and claws were direct descendants of the saber tooth tiger, and Tiggah took an instant dislike to the Christmas tree. Shiny colored ball-balls were hooked by tiny claws, and dragged into its lair. Tinsel was stalked, attacked, and left a shredded shadow of its former glory. However, it became abundantly clear; the kitten considered the twinkling lights… her mortal enemy.

Skittering into the family room, tail fat and twitching wildly, she spied the tree, jumped in the air sideways, and pounced. Hopelessly tangled in its branches, Tigs cried piteously until Jack strode in, oozing irritation. "Cameron Francis, and how many times do I have to say to keep this door shut! Tiggah is going to be on the menu one of these days!" Plucking her from the tree, carefully untangling the fairy lights, Tigs O'Neill repaid her daddy's kindness by hissing, and scratching his hands.

"Ow, damn animal!"

Running into the room, eager to rescue the little pet, Cammie danced around Jack's legs, tripping him up, and reminding him piously, that damn was a naughty word. "Daddy, you are looking at having to go to Carolyn's for family day if you continue to cuss. Don't make me though! I know how much you love it."

Watching the kitten dumped onto her white socks, and then bolt under the sofa, tail wagging and ears flat, Cam threw himself onto the rug. Flattening himself and reaching out to snag the kitten, he snatched back his instantly scratched fingers. "Ouch! Hey, Daddy, she's destroying another ball-ball!"

"Cameron, just leave the creature be. If she destroying the decorations, she's not trying to eat one of us."

Mistake number two for the normally canny general.

If Jack struggled to maintain dominance over Tiggah, he admitted total defeat when it came to controlling Mogliana. "Like owner, like pet," he complained to Teal'c, "neither listens to a blind word I say."

Mogliana was a determined little hunter, and covert in her attacks. Tail swishing, she ruled the O'Neill household with a paw of iron, and the general was fast losing patience. Tinsel, decorations, anything small enough to be captured were strewn around the house making it more untidy that usual. A force of nature, Mogliana couldn't stop hunting… and then… destroying. Flicking her tail, her little bell jingling, Mogs eyed the curtains like the predator she was. Scooping her up and tipping her outside, Jack muttered, "Go, hunt a wildebeest."

The kittens and the kids chased each other around the house causing havoc while Jack, tripping over them, valiantly tried to organize Christmas. Sara dropped in and taking pity on him, bundled the little boys into her car and took them for the day. Looking at her grinning face and rolling his eyes to the heavens, Jack warned he could easily change the locks, just for the holidays. "Yeah, sure thing, flyboy! Like I don't know how to pick a lock!"

Christmas Eve finally dawned, and the little boys bounced out of bed at dawn, wide-eyed and bushy tailed. Sliding down the hallway in their sock clad feet, Dan and Cam arrived at Jack's door. "Um, Dan, you go first." Looking at each other carefully, Cammie wondered about the… 'Waking up daddy early' rule. Clutching a squirming kitten under their armpits, they also thought about… 'Leaving the kittens in the laundry 'rule

"Um, fink Daddy is awake yet?"

"Well, we are, Cam, so yes!"

Also forgetting the… 'Knock on daddy's door' rule, they barged in, expertly catapulting onto the bed. Grinning, the little terrors proceeded to shake Jack awake. Tiggah and Mogliana, eager to escape their owners clumsy little fingers, dived for pillows, and wriggled successfully under the covers.

"Daddy? Are you awake yet? It's Christmas Eve and Santa is almost here, isn't he?"

"Daddy, come on! You can't sleep through Christmas! "

Prising open a sleepy eye and groaning under the assault of kittens and kids, Jack attempted to sit up and dislodge a furry ball of single mindedness from his left kidney area.

Growling at the hissing kitten and dumping her onto the floor, he rummaged around and dislodged the second free loader. Glaring at his children, he asked with icy politeness, "Cameron, mind getting off my stomach? Daniel, I'm losing circulation in that leg!"

Groaning and rolling his eyes, he felt the kittens ricochet straight back up and under his covers.

Bouncing Cam up and down, he tipped the giggling little boy off onto the bed, and snaking a hand out, attempted to capture Daniel as he disappeared under the covers in pursuit of the kittens. Finding only squirming bundles of fur, he pulled the wriggling kittens out and deposited them at the foot of the bed before snuggling back down under the bedclothes. "Take the hint, Tiggah."

Wriggling and taking the kittens' places under the warm covers, the boys chattered excitedly about Christmas turkey, candy, and their presents. Nodding and reaching for his watch, Jack ordered everyone back to sleep. "Okay, that's it. It's not even five thirty, everyone back to sleep until seven."

To be allowed to stay in Jack's bed was a great treat. Normally, he would return the small boys to their beds brooking no arguments. To be invited to stay was a rare treat, and squirming comfortably, the little boys stretched out as far as they could. His mouth curved into a smile, hands laced behind his head, the general listened to the adenoid buzz of his snoring boys. "Oy, this is going to be a long day."

Struggling for a piece of the covers, he rolled his eyes as the pair of kamikaze kittens jumped up, and purring like a sewing machine, kneaded and clawed at the pillows. "Do you mind?" Sighing, he swung his legs out of the bed, and getting dressed, padded downstairs for coffee and a slice of buttered peace.

The sleep in was a huge success, and the kittens and kids didn't wake until after eight o'clock. "Good," he told himself, and let out a small sigh of relief that the sleep-in had worked. It was going to be a long day, and cranky, over tired children were not on the menu. Hearing the trace of childish voices, followed by an echo of laughter, Jack put down his cup and loped up the stairs. Leaning down and scooping up the nearest child, he tickled Danny's tummy and smiled his good mornings.

Sitting on the side of the bed, he wriggled his fingers invitingly at the kittens, snatching them back intermittently, smiling as tiny claws jabbed and miniature fangs attempted to nip. "Well, who's for Fruit Loops? Who's for pancakes? And who's for making daddy all of the afore mentioned?"

Whooping with delight, the little boys jumped on Jack, laughing and drooling on the covers. Valiantly dodging the flailing arms, he looked at the trail of snot across his t-shirt and said, "Ew, that's it, out of my room, you lot! Even the kittens look disgusted."

Dan and Cam seated themselves at the table and watched with childish greed as Jack flipped golden pancakes. "Here you go, kids, who wants some honey?" Cam put a hand to his mouth, whispering through honey-smeared fingers, "Fink Santa likes pancakes? Fink we should leave some?" Eyeing the remaining pancake ruefully and licking his lips, Cam shook his head, "Nah, he's too fat."

Expecting ten adults for lunch, Jack needed to organize the table and cart chairs from the garage. Extending the table to seat everyone comfortably, Jack sighed, and removed Mogs' and Tigs' food bowls. Grabbing the collar of the nearest skulking child, he lifted Cam and tossing him in the air casually, said, "I'm gonna only say this once, the critters are not invited for lunch. If I see these bowls at the table again, the child responsible will trade places with his pet. Kitty cats love turkey I'm told."

Struggling to maintain his stern facade at the jaw dropping looks of horror crossing his children's faces, Jack mentally stroked a one in the air. "He shoots, he scores." When he returned from the kitchen, laden down with glasses and plates, the bowls had mysteriously disappeared and never mentioned again.

To keep the little fingers busy and out of candy bowls, Jack knew he needed to assign tasks. Long, repetitive tasks. "Mm," he pondered to himself," A limited window of opportunity exists; don't blow it. The holidays are for the survivalists or the mentally challenged." Making extravagant promises to the smiling photo of his kids, he picked up the frame and whispered, "I just want this day to be perfect for you little knuckleheads."

Spying Cameron wandering by with a pair of Christmas underpants over his head, Jack grabbed him and barked in his best general voice, "Okay, Airman, front and center! I need these Christmas cards written in, and these Santa Stockings hung over _that_ mantle piece. Here are some pegs, and some extra Christmas stars. Make sure each stocking has a name on it so Santa can see. There are five, three for the humans and two for the critters. Okay? Do you understand the order, soldier?" Looking at Cammie's furrowed brow, Jack smiled, and tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner. "Cameron?"

Little butt pushed out, Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell saluted his commanding officer sharply and recited the orders. 'Hang up the pegs on the stars! Yes, sir! Daddy? Why are there three for the kittens? Has Sam brunged you a kitten too? How many humans, Daddy? Are you a human or a critter?"

Shooing Cam into the family room, the general rolled his eyes, and called his next soldier.

"One space cadet down, one little elf to go. Danny? I have an important job for you." Handing over the little place cards, Jack ordered them decorated and placed around the table. Smiling at the serious little face nodding at him, he patted the honey blonde head and said, "Good man."

Everyone had their assigned tasks, and even Mogliana and Tiggah behaved for Jack. Sara dropped in with more gifts and her famous, boozy, Christmas pudding. Barely surviving the enthusiastic mugging from the children and the cats, she walked into the kitchen, and smiled, her eyes soft. "Who wants to help me get the gifts from the car?" Throwing her head back and laughing, she chose the child who waved both arms in the air, jumping on her foot for added impact, assuring the other that he'd get the honor of placing them under the Christmas tree.

The table looked beautiful. Standing around it and admiring their handiwork, Jack bunched his hands on his hips, and winked at Santa's little helpers. Decorated with a definite Egyptian theme, camels holding Frosty the Snowman's hand, the names tags were magnificent. The Christmas cards ended up strung between the chairs, painstakingly spruced up with silver and gold glitter. Everyone had a tiny wrapped present by his or her wine glass, and inviting silver party favors sat on pristine china plates. Napkins folded with Santa napkin rings matched the slightly crooked, homemade paper mache tree leaning precariously in the centre of the table.

Child attached tightly to either leg, nursing a baby saber tooth, Jack wondered about all the amazing things that can happen in one year. People unrepentantly marry, people bitterly divorce, and people become fathers again. Not all those years of feeling he was trapped, running madly on some galactic mouse wheel mattered anymore.

All those years of wondering whether the Jack Daniels or Kentucky bourbon tasted better with Christmas beer.

All those years of pretending he didn't care that he walked around with a hole punched through his heart.

His world was different now. Now, his biggest concern was convincing his kids that Bing really did sing better the Alvin the Chipmunk.


	11. Chapter 11

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Sink or Swim.

Warnings: None. Kidfic Only.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Daniel and Cameron were officially enrolled in swim classes. The class consisted of four other children and had the excellent moniker of 'Team Tadpole.' Very professional. Naturally, the boys required matching everything, and General O'Neill handed over his check with a shaky hand. The O'Neill boys were extremely excited, and had tormented their daddy all morning demanding to know if it were time to leave. Jack had considered saying yes, and driving across the state just to shut them up, but common sense prevailed.

The time finally arrived, and at three o'clock; Jack herded the boys into their car seats, placed the keys in the ignition, and sighed softly. Swimming lessons weren't supposed to be so darn involved. Book the lessons; buy the matching Speedos, pay the preposterously high fee, and presto! However, looking at the grinning little faces in the rear vision mirror, he knew that the O'Neill boys always managed to cause a splash. The rules of the classes weren't all that complicated, so he knew he'd have to go over them at least a dozen times.

"O-ookaay, Cameron. Remind Daddy. What are you _not_ going to do at the swimming center? Do I need to write it down for you? Got a pen in my pocket. "

Cam tactfully ignored what he considered a rhetorical question and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Kicking his bare legs and judging a near miss to the back of Jack's seat to perfection, Cameron parroted, "I am not a clown fish, I am a little boy. I will not take my bathers off and swim butt naked."

"See, that wasn't hard, was it. Now, Daniel, what do you promise Daddy?"

Heaving a great sigh, Danny recited obediently. "I will not lose myself, or leave without telling you that I'm leaving. You know, Daddy, the last part doesn't really make much sense. If I wanted to sneak out, why would I tell you? Isn't really sneaking, is it?"

"Is that snippiness? I hope not, young man. You know how cranky I get with snippiness."

Cam stopped fidgeting with his seat clasp, his eyes flying open with surprise. Danny hardly ever got into trouble and _never_ before a treat. Remembering his star-less chart and huffing regretfully, he knew trouble was his usually his domain. Studying his brother's stubborn scowl, Cam sat up straight, and figured this trip had great potential. Flexing his tiny fingers in anticipation, and wriggling his bottom gleefully, Cam waited breathlessly for Danny's answer. He didn't have to wait for long.

"Fine, even though snippiness isn't a word! Even though it still doesn't make any sense. Either you sneak or you don't!" Danny blew his cheeks out with childish outrage.

"Like the sound of your own voice, don'tcha kiddo. All you need to remember is that I will be an extremely cranky daddy if I have to stop and search for you this afternoon." Jack's warning tone should have rung warning bells, but adventurous little boys will be adventurous little boys.

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, and refusing to meet Jack's eyes in the mirror, muttered sourly under his breath. "Of course it's my own voice, who else's would I use."

The trip suddenly became a whole lot more interesting for the small colonel, and he sucked his breath in quickly. Leaning forward as far as he could, he craned his neck to see the hideous parental response. This conversation was strangely thrilling to him, and feeling bloodthirsty, he prompted the major players to continue. Clapping his hands together, he asked with a wide-eyed innocence that fooled no one, "How cranky will you be, Daddy?"

"Very cranky. About as cranky as seeing you without Team Tadpole plastered across on your little butt. So, to recap, children, are we all perfectly clear on the swimming lesson rules?"

"Yup, no bare assed swimming."

"Yes, fine. I promise, among other things, not to sneak away unsneakily."

"Excellent." Pulling into a parking space, Jack took a deep breath, determined to ignore the inexplicable feeling of paternal dread he felt. Looking in the rear vision mirror, he saw the freckled faces of Team Tadpole beaming at him, and sighed. "Buy an apple, what could go wrong?"

No longer feeling the need to be argumentative, and with his little face dimpling sweetly, Danny blinked through thick lashes. "_Da-d-de-ee_, come on, everyone will be in the pool before us and all the water will be gone."

"That a fact?" Holding their hands as they jumped from the truck, Jack smiled at their eager little faces. "The water won't run out, this I know." The warm breeze carried the smell of fresh cut grass, and with a feeling of nostalgia, the general naively felt his mood lightened. "So, are we all looking forward to the lesson?" Grinning at their backsides with Team Tadpole proudly emblazoned across them, he said, "Let's go, campers." Hitching the swimming bags across his shoulder, Jack scooped up his nearest child, and herding the other in front of him, walked up to the front door of the Colorado Springs Swim Center. Pushing the heavy door open, impressed by its weight, he sought to reassure the boys. "Remember, listen to what Miss Gould has to say, and everything will be peachy."

"Why? What is she gonna say?" Cameron's face clouded with suspicion.

"Cameron, that's a very good question. She will probably start by introducing herself, and then explain the rules."

"What rules, Daddy?"

"The rules of the pool, I suppose."

"But aren't we here to swim? How can water have rules?"

"What? No, not the water, Cameron, the rules of the Swim Center. Like no running, no splashing, no bombs, and no taking off swimsuits."

"I wanna go home."

"Excuse me?"

"This is gonna be just like yucky school! Double yuck! I wanna go home."

Rolling his eyes, Danny wriggled free and scooted slightly ahead. Looking at the ten-lane pool in wide-eyed wonderment, he neatly veered off. Throwing a quick look over his shoulder, reminding himself to keep Jack and the outraged Cam in sight, Danny meandered away. "Boy, this place sure is big! I wonder if those kick boards are ours? Think I'll go pick out a good one. Don't want one that drowns kids."

Danny had been very concerned about being abandoned at the swim centre and had tearfully sought his daddy's assurance. The tearful heart to heart with Jack the night before meant he no longer worried about being left alone. With newfound confidence and natural curiosity, Danny found the Colorado Springs Swim Center to be a fascinating place. Buoys separated the lanes and bobbing brightly in the water, made perfect arm rests for the kids to lean on. Chatting or responding to a coach's barked order, kids duck dived underneath them only to surface like a seal in the next lane. Watching with silent awe as a squad of teenagers powered past in a white wash of wake, Danny forgot his number one rule. Wandering further away, the little explorer found something very interesting.

Danny's eyes gleamed and his fingers twitched. Jack was busy fending off his brother's questions and that meant he was free. "Mm, wonder where this door goes? Maybe I'll find a kick board. Hope they have ones with Team Tadpole written on them." Pushing the door leading to the alleyway behind the pool, Danny decided he'd check the crates stacked near the wall. "Suppose I'd better find one for Cam." Edging towards the wall, carefully picking his way through the trash, Danny felt a hand lightly touch his shoulder, and startled, yelped, "Huh? Hello, what are you doing here?"

Jack hadn't noticed his run-away; he was too busy arguing with his other child. "Cameron, enough! Rules are there for a …where's Danny? Did you see where he went? Oh, fer cryin' out loud." Excusing himself, Jack pushed through the parents trying to find a seat, and scanned the pool area. Feeling his heart thumping far too quickly, he desperately searched for a small, fair-haired boy, wearing black bathers and green goggles. Unfortunately, there were scores of identically dressed fair-haired children. "Crap! Cam, if you can see your brother, now would be the time to tell Daddy."

Forgetting all about his mini rebellion, Cam cupped his hand to his eyes and searched for Danny. Hanging on tightly to Jack's shirt, Cam squeaked with triumph, and pointed his finger, "There he is, Daddy! He's holding Miss Gould's hand. Boy, she sure looks cross. Wonder why? Shall I ask her? Here she comes, is Danny gonna get it? Can I watch? Can I have all his green stars? Can…" Feeling a hand clamped firmly across his mouth, Cam huffed in annoyance. He still had plenty to say.

Jack winced. Miss Gould marched up to the general and waving at Cam, pulled Danny protectively in front of her. "Mr. O'Neill? Did you realize Daniel was in the alleyway? Hardly a safe place for a pre-schooler! "Miss Gould held the increasingly squirming child's hand and bristled with indignation. Her braces glistening under the light, she shook her wet ponytail, and reminded the chastised general that the swim lesson started in less than ten minutes. "If I may suggest, Mr. O'Neill, you should really keep a better eye out for your sons." Leaning down and tickling Daniel's tummy, the earnest teenager whispered, "See you soon, sweetie."

Gulping and looking at the stony face glaring down at him, Daniel ducked his head and muttered, "Oops, I lost myself, didn't I?"

"We'll_ so_ discuss this later, Daniel. Come on, let's get you peanuts ready. Is that orange peel stuck to your foot? What's in your hair?"

Herding the little boys towards the accusing face of Miss Gould, Jack smiled thinly, and told them he'd be in the stands. Waving him away with an imperious shake of the hand, Cameron pinged the elastic in his waistband longingly. Catching his daddy's stern look, he obediently dropped his hands to his side. Cupping his hand to his mouth, the tiny colonel whispered, "Psst, Dan, wanna swim like Nemo?"

Listening to Miss Gould intently, Daniel glared at his brother and hissed a warning to behave. He knew Cam's look of mischief only too well, and he knew he was already looking at losing a green star or ten. "No! Neither do you! Listen to the teacher or you'll drown!"

Ushering her group of four boys to the safety of the shallower children's pool, Miss Gould smiled saying warmly, "Now, Team Tadpole, we are all going to hold hands and walk over to the first step." Fastening water wings to the four sets of skinny little arms, she smiled at Danny especially fondly. "I just know you are going to be my star pupil!" Handing him a foam kick board with slight chuck out of it, she twirled around to see to the other three. Looking at the damaged board, Danny's eyes rounded with alarm. His courage slipping, he looked around for an escape route.

Cameron teamed up with a stout, ginger haired boy called Frank, and squeezing each other's water wings, hoping to pop them, looked at the water with delight. Covertly edging closer to the edge of the pool, they itched to jump in. The other little boy, called Michael, flexed his arms and swinging them like a propeller, slipped his goggles onto his face, looking very professional. With an Aussie twang, the curly haired boy raised his hand, and jiggled with impatience. "Excuse me, Ma'am, can I jump in now? I'm from Australia and I know how to dog paddle already."

Team Tadpole was ready and eager to get into the pool. With the possible exception of one small tadpole.

Daniel Jackson wasn't so sure he wanted to learn how to swim anymore. He wanted to originally, but he'd changed his mind. Backing up, his only thought was to escape into the stands and sit on his daddy's lap, safe from defective kick boards and deflating water wings. Edging forward and politely edging Frank out of the way, he raised his hand politely.

"Excuse me, Ma'am; I have to go find my daddy now. He's a general you know, and I help him with all kinds of stuff. If I drowned, that only leaves my brother, and he isn't really much help."

Smiling nervously, Danny shook Miss Gould's hand from his shoulder. "Well, it's been nice meeting you; hope you don't drown my brother, but I'll understand if you do!"

Unfortunately, Miss Gould had taken a liking to him and had determined he would be her protégée.

"Find your daddy? Sure, sweetie, just as soon as the lesson has finished. All the parents have to come down to the edge of the pool and collect you, okay?"

An experienced swim teacher, she had already picked the boys' personalities with frightening accuracy. Cameron was a kamikaze kid. Frank would follow anyone blindly, and Michael would move out of her class quickly. That left Daniel, and she knew he would be an obliging, well-behaved little boy, giving her no trouble.

Following her like black bottomed ducklings, Team Tadpole took their place at the edge of the pool. Splashing into the water, the four little boys floundered and gasped with varied emotions. Cam and Michael were delirious, Frank shivered, his teeth already chattering, and Daniel, lost for words, was too shocked to think clearly.

Miss Gould, using her excellent intuition, glided through the water and scooped Daniel into her arms. "Hey, what's the matter, Danny? Aren't you having fun? Look at your brother, he has…" Her pretty face contorted with horror as she saw Cameron floating by, kicking his sturdy little legs firmly. Unfortunately, she also saw his very white, upturned, bare bottom.

Bending her knees and dipping Daniel gently into the water, she flung a hand out to retrieve a pair of floating bathers bobbing past her. Finding his voice at last, Danny howled with fury, and scrambling up her ribcage, protested loudly that she was trying to drown him. Kicking strongly by, Cam powered out of the kiddies section, and bare assed, kicked determinedly into the main stream of the pool.

By the time, Daniel stopped howling and thrashing about, another lifeguard had retrieved Cameron. Michael burst into noisy tears, and his mother demanded another, calmer class. Frankie turned blue and shivered and shook like a Chihuahua. Team Tadpole was the talk of the water cooler.

Walking the walk of parental shame, General Jack O'Neill, hung his head, and ignoring the frowns of the mommies, and the guffaws of the daddies, went to collect his children. Sighing and seeing the manager of the pool walk towards him, Jack said, "Let me guess, you need to talk to me in the office?"

Jack looked up in time to see the smiling face of his guest, Sara. Tapping him on the shoulder and clearing her throat, she shook her head and asked politely, "So, I take it the kid with the bare butt in the middle of the squad swimmers, belonged to you?"

"He has a free spirit." Jack felt as though he should at least sound loyal.

Sara smiled and continued her subtle interrogation.

So, the one hollering the roof down about being sold defective equipment was also one of yours?"

"He has a strong sense of justice. The kick board was cracked." The loyalty was slipping at the sound of the guffawing parents hanging onto their every word.

Looking into her eyes and seeing the amusement in her face, Jack O'Neill said with a wry smile, "It's nice to see you, Sara; I've told the kids all about you."

Shaking with silent laughter and rolling her eyes at the snorting moms, Sara whispered into Jack's ear, "Lucky little me."

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: The Court Case. 01#

Caetgory: Kidfic.

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes please.

Bounce

Bounce

Bounce.

Crash

The brand new mini NBA Spalding basketball, a steal at 19.95, careened chaotically down the hallway. Seemingly with a mind of its own, it gathered speed and collided with the hall table, sending it and its treasures flying.

Scampering after the runaway ball, the red-faced little colonel called out breathlessly, "Wait you stoopid ball! You're not supposed to dribble _away_ from me!" Running too fast and slipping on the hallway runner, the little boy bounced against the wall and grunted at the sharp impact. Rubbing his shoulder and looking up, he skittered to a sudden halt.

"Cameron?"

"Uh-huh? Oh no!"

Looking at the denim- clad legs blocking his passage; Cam gulped and raised his head in dismay. Batting his innocent blue eyes and using them to their full advantage, he looked into the stern face of his toe-tapping daddy and squeaked with fright.

"Hello, Daddy! Did you see a ball come this way?" Placing his hands on his hips and shaking his shaggy little head, Cam added hopefully, "No? Well, fanks anyway. I gotta go now, bub-bye!"

Using his deceptively calm daddy voice he kept for moments such as these, the general placed his hand on the little boy's head and turned him sideways, pointing to the rolling basketball. "Not so fast, little boy! What do you know about that? " Arching an eyebrow and leaning down into the tiny colonel's line of vision, Jack cleared his throat in warning," Cameron, were you playing with that ball inside the house again?"

Swallowing loudly and with his mouth slightly ajar, Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell nervously shuffled from foot to foot. Shaking his head furiously, he squirmed under the heavy hand restraining him and stuttered, "N-no, I weren't D-daddy, the basketball musta felled out of toy cupboard and frowed itself down the hallway!"

Blinking and employing his sweetest smile, Cam shifted his gaze uncomfortably away from his daddy's, and looking at his bare little toes instead, said hopefully, "Maybe my bruvver knows sumfink 'bout it? Shall I run and ask him?"

General Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill snorted and almost felt sorry for the little boy.

Deliberately making his hand feel heavier, he turned Cam back to face him and tapped his cheek with his finger, "No, I don't think he would, Cameron. Daniel has been very busy helping me with laundry all morning." Narrowing his eyes and lifting Cam's chin up, the interrogation continued. "So, think you may want to run that by me one more time? Explain to me why the ball just bounced out all by itself?"

"Um, just cos, Daddy. It's a very tricky ball." Blinking innocently, he added as an afterthought, "It's a little bit nooghty though, isn't it? Maybe it threwed itself when I weren't looking!" Casually standing on the tips of his toes, Cameron eyes squinted shiftily. "I'll talk to it later, Daddy, prom'se!"

Watching the squirming little boy shrug his shoulders regretfully, Jack folded his arms across his chest, and added thoughtfully, "Mm, what a naughty little ball."

Cameron peered through his too-long bangs and nodded his head as if it would fall off. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he grinned hopefully, quite pleased with the conversations direction.

Titling his head to the side, and losing what little patience he had, the general thought the conversation bordered on the ridiculous. Pointing his finger at Cam, he tapped his nose and said, "Not one more word!"

Hearing enough of the child's nonsense, and grabbing his slightly grubby, tatty, collar firmly, Jack steered the miscreant out of the hallway and into the kitchen. Picking him up and placing him squarely on a chair, he turned it to the corner, and knuckling his head, said, "Cameron, you can sit there while I fix the table. When I come back, we will discuss at length what _really _happened."

Shaking his head and hiding a wry smile behind his hand, Jack investigated what damage the ball had caused to the hall table and its little knick-knacks. Still snorting with amusement, he muttered, "Escaped by itself! I guess I gotta hand it to the kid, he doesn't go down with out a fight."

Daniel had heard the kafuffle, and padding silently down the hallway in his socked feet, listened to his brother's sorry excuses with a feeling of disbelief. Peeking around the corner and dropping to his hands and knees, he watched Jack shake his head at the carnage.

Scooping up the treasured knick-knacks, the general clucked his tongue with annoyance, no longer remotely amused by his child's latest piece of disobedience. "Cameron, you and I are going to have a long discussion soon as I finish fixing this mess." Walking down the hallway to fetch his toolbox from the garage, Jack stopped mid- stride, and glancing over his shoulder, experienced an uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Shrugging it off as an over- active imagination, he shook his head and felt like a raw recruit on his first maneuver.

Tiptoeing down the hallway and covertly watching as his daddy left the room, Danny's tummy lurched as he bumped against the kitchen doorframe, his sturdy little body half in and then dancing quickly out again. Watching the back door nervously for any sign of his daddy's sudden return, the little archeologist felt dizzy, knowing the unpleasant consequence of disturbing his naughty brother. Not ready to open his mouth and announce his presence, Danny contented himself with glaring at the back of Cameron's head.

Dan had been a very quiet little observer in the morning's debacle. Being a canny little boy, he knew enough that when one child suffered under parental scrutiny, the other's sins often were unpleasantly resurrected. When he heard Cam infer that his brother might have inkling about the runaway basketball, Danny's chin hit the floor and he jumped up and down with outrage. "Oh, you fly dope! I'm so going to tell on you!"

Making doubly sure Jack had left for a little while; he gathered his nerve and scampered into the kitchen, smacking Cam across his shoulder. Poking his tongue out and jeering a little unkindly, he smugly said, "Serves you right! I didn't have anything to do with that stupid ball knocking over the table!" Feeling vindicated he added nastily, "You are so going to get it now. Daddy looked really mad."

Cam looked resentfully at the grinning face of his brother, and the tears he'd been fighting since his corner time spilled down his cheeks. Sniffing, his face a mask of childish tragedy, Cam dissolved into noisy sobs, miserably aware Jack would confiscate his new ball. Howling and hiccoughing simultaneously, the tiny miscreant confessed, "I'm s-sorry, D-danny, I w-w-would'nt haf let Daddy b-blame you." Wallowing in miserable self-pity, Cam wrapped his arms around his knees and cried even harder.

Danny sighed, and crossing his eyes in exasperation, felt his prickliness deflate. He leant across and kindly patted his crying brother's back, saying sympathetically. "Don't cry, Cammie, I'll think of something, don't worry." His outrage gone and feeling very sorry for his brother, Danny wondered how he could get Cam out of all this trouble. Drawing in his bottom lip and giving it a thoughtful chew, he remembered how cross Jack had looked. "Mm, it's going to take all my brains, Cam."

Believing every word his clever brother said, Cam turned around on his chair and smiled through tear-swollen eyes. Leaning into Dan's chest, and with his bottom lip still trembling, the little colonel nodded hopefully. Rubbing his nose vigorously across the back of his sleeve, he sniffed revoltingly loudly. "Fanks, Danny; you're the bestest president a general could haf."

Screwing his nose up at the disgusting sound, but agreeing that Cam certainly didn't deserve him, Danny whispered, "Listen, where exactly was the ball? On the top shelf or in the toy box?" Daniel explained himself further, nervously checking the backdoor in case Jack returned. "Try to remember, Cammie, where exactly was your dumb ball?" Sighing and swallowing his exasperation at Cam's continued confusion, Daniel patiently explained that they needed to prove that the toy cupboard door _could_ have flown open, and the ball _could_ have bounced out by itself.

Daniel had become a Judge Judy devotee and with the shining eyes of a zealot, he decided he would become a part-time world famous attorney. No case would be un-winnable. Confident in his legal heart, that despite the over whelming evidence plus the highly credible eyewitness, his brother would be a free colonel in no time. Ambling over to the cookie jar and helping himself to several, Danny munched happily, "Cam, you are very lucky. I've had quite a bit of experience in such matters." Cramming another cookie into his mouth, he added," I wath co-councithl at Teal'cth's Cor-ai."

"Teal'c had a sore eye? Who gived him sore eye? Did someone poke him?" As the minutes ticked by, Cam started to fidget, muttering crossly about sore eyes and stupid brothers. Glowering at Daniel, Cam squirmed on his hard chair and scratched his head in confusion. Sighing, he eyed Danny's remaining cookie and clicking his fingers demanded his share.

Sighing at the small portion handed to him, Cameron said, "But I _did_ take the ball and I _did_ frowed it down the hallway!" Shaking his head and thinking how terrible his brother's plan was, he faced the wall again and eating his cookie, sighed through a mouthful of crumbs. "I'm doomed, Danny, doomed!" Tears starting to stream down his freckled little face, he sniffed dramatically and added, "It's been nice knowin' ya."

Running his fingers along his Cam's shoulders, Danny grinned and said a little pompously, "No, you're not, you doofus! That's the whole point; Jack cannot punish you unless he is sure you committed a crime. Its all circumcized evidence, Cammie, and you cannot be evicted on circumcized evidence." With the minutes still ticking by and with one eye glued to the back door, Dan listened for sounds of his dad's return, prepared to take flight and scarper.

Striding around the back of Cam's chair and clasping his hands behind his back, Doctor Daniel Jackson blew an errant strand of hair from his eyes and demanded; "Did Daddy read your Miranda rights?" Scampering to the fridge and dragging the milk out, Danny poured himself a glass and gulped a mouthful quickly. Choking, coughing and spluttering, he handed Cam his half-empty glass after deciding he wasn't thirsty after all. "Phew, that was almost a disaster." Rubbing at the milk splotches covering his favorite jersey, he repeated his question firmly. "Well, did he?"

Ignoring Cam's spectacularly blank look and feeling enthused with the pending court case; the legal eagle recovered and decided Cameron's case could be tried as a civil matter.

"Tart Law, Cameron, is all about compensation. Daddy is the tartfeasor, and when we prove he was wrong about you, he will have to pay you damages."

Eyeing his brother, suddenly considerably more perceptive than before, Colonel Cameron Mitchell folded his arms across his chest, dried his eyes, and said firmly, "Dan, you're hired! When do we go to cart?"

TBC….


	13. Chapter 13

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan & Cam.

Title: Tart Law.

Warnings: None.

Category: Kidfic.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Tart Law.

"Therefore, Cameron, long story short, one of us has to tell daddy that he is being sued in the Tart Court." Squinting shiftily and chewing on his bottom lip, the little archeologist mumbled behind his hand,

"That's going to have to be your job."

"Wh-Whaatt? My job? Are you nuts? You're the mouth piece, you tell him!"

Snorting with outrage, the little colonel whirled around on his chair and facing the wall crossed his arms tightly across his chest. Muttering under his breath, he ignored Dan's pitiful attempt to make him feel guilty.

Rolling his eyes, and slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand, Daniel grumbled,

"Oh, _please_, Cam, don't be such a little yellow-belly!"

Exasperated by his client's shrewdness and his subsequent unwillingness to obey his every command, Daniel sighed, and reluctantly agreed to his brother's demands.

"Okay, I'll just write Daddy a supmarina."

Looking around the kitchen and squinting suspiciously at his brother, Dan demanded, "Hey, where is my new coloring-in book and crayons? Have you taken them without asking?" Stamping his foot, Danny yelped with outrage," I'm so telling on you! Just as soon as I win this case, I'm going to sue you next!"

Sucking in his bottom lip, Cam blew his long bangs from his eyes, and said, "Crayons? Coloring-in book? Um, I fink I saw Daddy with them." Humming to himself in an effort to block out anymore-insistent questions, Cammie idly wondered when Jack would give him the basketball back. Conveniently tuning out his brother's squawks, the littlest colonel allowed himself to relax, confident in the knowledge that Danny had everything under control.

"Daddy? Coloring-in books? Sure, that makes a lotta sense!" Rolling his eyes, Daniel struggled for calm. It would be unseemly for an attorney to wrestle his client to the floor.

Swinging his feet and casually kicking the cream-colored wall leaving yet another scuffmark, Cam climbed onto his knees, and peered around the corner. With a hand thrown across his mouth, he had a sudden and unpleasant thought. Crinkling his nose, he whispered behind his hand lest anyone hear and get ideas.

"Danny, what if Daddy says we aren't 'llowed to sue him? How will I get my basketball back then?'

Mouth trembling, he added shakily, "What if Daddy 'cides to smack my bottom anyway?" Sinking back to his chair, Cam howled with misery,

"Danny, I don' want my bottom spanked!"

"Well duh!"

Taking a deep breath and accidentally inhaling a piece of cookie, Daniel spluttered, and with his eyes watering, hastily waved away his brother's concerns."Phew, that was almost a tragedy! What if I lost my voice?" Eyeing his brother wallowing in self-pity, Danny's voice sounded full of fondness. Patting his back kindly, he urged Cam pull himself together. Being an attorney was tougher than he thought.

"Don't worry about Daddy. He won't spank you! Not while I have _everything_ under control. He'll be in content of cart!"

Tilting his head just a fraction, his eyes squinting shiftily, the part time attorney knew he couldn't allow his new client to see any sign weakness. If he had learned anything from Judge Judy, it was – 'what I say goes, and do not argue. 'In his learned opinion, sound advice.

Cam thought his attorney was magnificent and had every faith in the bespectacled fraud.

"Yup, guess so, Dan! Wot ev-ah you say!"

Wiping his eyes, Cam looked at his brother's kind face and thought briefly of confessing to the borrowing his new crayons. Deciding against the confession, he smiled warmly instead. "Danny, you're my best-est friend."

Walking around the room and finding himself inexplicably drawn back to the forbidden cookie jar, Danny tapped his teeth with a finger knowingly. He was full of them.

"I've had a great idea! Sam said I helped Teal'c with his Cor-ai when I was big, so he can be my co-consort now! I'll ring him and tell him he's been hired!"

With a smug little smile tugging at his lips, the legal eagle slapped his brother's back, enthusiastically exclaiming,

"We'll have that dumb basketball back in no time."

Leaning against the doorjamb and peering down the hallway, Danny wondered how hard it would be to prove the cupboard flew open by itself, making the ball bounce down the hallway. The case was tricky, given the undeniable fact; he knew his brother was guilty. Waving his hand airily around, figured that fact wasn't important. Not really, nope, he could spin the circumstances to fit his plans. Yesiree, it was just a matter of how you said it. He learnt this from Judge Judy as well. A steely look of determination shone in Danny's blue eyes, and turning around, he smacked his brother's head and demanded,

"Cameron, listen up! Does the cupboard in the toy room have a proper lock?"

Rubbing his head and wondering if Jack would hear them wrestling, glowered and took a deep breath. He was in enough trouble and he didn't want to add any more sins to his long list.

"Ouch! Yeah, 'course, but Daddy took'd the key cuz I locked myself in there. 'Member? He had to take the door off its thingies last week?"

Sighing at the memory and shivering as if a ghost walked over his grave, the little fly-boy whispered, "It was real scary in there!"

Nodding his head in sympathy, Dan prompted Cam to concentrate on his statement. After all, a good statement was important when suing daddies. If he put a foot wrong, it was possible corner time for the world famous attorney.

"So, is it possible that when you were locked in there, you could have damaged the lock? Think carefully now, this is your only hope of escaping that icky spanking."

The motivation suddenly very compelling, the little colonel bit his lip hard.

"I 'member Daddy said a naughty word cuz it took ages to put the door back on. He said the wood was whapped or sumfink."

Cam narrowed his eyes slyly. In Cam's mind, things were going surprisingly well, and Jack was looking at being thrown out of Judge Daniel's court.

"Does that mean we can say the ball bounced out cuz Daddy didn't put the door on proper?" Smiling and clapping his hands together, Cammie added with awe, "Oooh, you are so smart, Danny!"

Hearing the garage door close, Danny jumped in a half turn, and shoving his half-eaten cookie at Cam, squeaked, "Oh, no! Daddy's coming back now."

Whirling his finger in the air, the little mouthpiece warned his client to turn around and face the wall again.

"It's Daddy! Now remember; leave all the talking to me!"

Scuttling out of the room and standing in the hallway trying to appear nonchalant, Danny said," There's a very good reason we attorneys are so effluent, it's because we're so darn smart!"

Danny looked at the broken table and stepping over it, tried to appear casual and full of confidence.

"You and your dumb ball will be sprung in no time. By the time, Teal'c and I have finished with Daddy you are going to be rolling with effluence! Money will be no problem for you ever again! He'll have to pay heaps of damageables!"

Smiling widely at his clever brother, and scrunching his toes against the wall defiantly, the littlest lieutenant colonel giggled, "Yep, I'm gonna be so-oo effluent in damageables!"

Next: The Tart Cart is compreened.


	14. Chapter 14

Author Amberfly

Author Amberfly  
Series: Dan & Cam: The Court Case.  
Title: Tart Cart.  
Warnings: None.  
Category: Kidfic

_"If the law supposes that," said Mr. Bumble… "The law is an ass—an idiot. If that's the eye of the law, the law is a bachelor; and the worst I wish the law is that his eye may be opened by experience—by experience." Charles Dickens: 1812-1870_.

The general had been very irritated about the broken table and the resulting smashed knick-knacks. Luckily, Captain Leonard had called to speak to Jack urgently, and consequently, Cam had managed to wiggle away. Daniel scampered to the phone and politely answered it. Captain Leonard rolled her eyes when the young voice said, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Daniel or Cameron? Daniel? Hello, sweetie, this is Captain Leonard. Now, be a good boy and run and tell daddy I need to speak to him straight away."

"Oh, hello, Captain, it's nice to speak to you again. How have you been? Well?"

The captain smiled to herself. On the rare occasions she needed to call General O'Neill at home, it was always a wild ride. The boys would fight for the phone, and then out of breath, the victor would wheeze loudly in her ear. Once he discovered who it was, the little boy would chat away, while she politely interrupted, prompting him to find his daddy.

"I am well, thank you for asking, Danny. Now, please, do as I asked and get your daddy."

"Okay, but I have to warn you, he's in a real_ cranky_ mood. My brother, Cameron, remember him? Course, silly me, well, he broke the hall table with his basketball. Yes, he is clumsy. So, now I have to get him out of trouble. It's not easy having a brother like Cam. It's a good thing I have extinctive legal expert -easer."

Standing one end of the hallway, as far away from his cranky daddy as possible, Dan bellowed, "Dad-eeee, it's the Pentagon on the phone. Dad-deee? Shall I say you can't come to the phone because you're growling at my brother? I've told her that you're cranky already, so she won't be surprised."

Jack cringed," Oh, fer crying out loud." Wagging his finger under Cam's nose he growled, "Saved by the bell. You, my little Globe Trotter are grounded until further notice." Throwing his hands in the air and muttering under his breath, O'Neill grabbed the phone from Daniel, and eyeing him carefully, barked into the hand piece, "Captain? Yes? No, Cameron isn't clumsy he's plain naughty! Now, what can I do for you?"

Danny paled at the parental glare, and swallowing loudly, disappeared down the hallway. Peering covertly into the den, Danny flattened himself against the wall as Jack strode by oozing with parental irritation. "Whew! Waggling his fingers at Jack's retreating back, the little boy mouthed cheekily, "_Bub-bye_, Daddy!" Scampering in, his eyes roamed the bookcase looking for the perfect book that would explain every conceivable facet of the law in one paragraph. He was sure it would be easy to find, Judge Judy made it all seem so easy. If it were that difficult, why did the show only last for an hour?

Scanning the books, his face beamed with pleasure. "Ah-huh! Of course! This is the perfect book! Thrilled with his cleverness and tucking the musty old book under his arm, the little attorney skittered upstairs to the safety of his room. Sticking his fingers in his mouth and whistling the coast was clear; Cam slunk into the room, his heart pounding.

"Hey, we have to get started! Daddy is mighty cranky! He's gone outside to his shed, so we should be safe for a while. Are you supposed to be in your room? Okay, make sure you listen for the screen door, I can't help you if I'm in timeout!"

"Shed? He's in the shed? Oh no! He's gonna get the rope and hang me from the ceiling in a net! Danny! You hafta to help me! I don' wanna be a stuffed trout!"

"Huh? Cameron, don't be a dope! I've already told you Daddy was only teasing! You can't stuff a trout; you eat them, and who'd want to eat you? Now, play quietly with your army men while I read."

Firing up his laptop, grabbing his pad, Danny licked the end of his crayon, and screwing up his face, morphed into the highly focused academic of old. The little linguist worked very hard and took his new responsibilities seriously. It was harder than he thought, and Cameron kept making explosive sounds as his armies fought to the death over a cookie. Sitting at his desk, Daniel laboriously took notes and quickly became confused. His finger tracing every word, he read them aloud, "_The tort is a private wrong that must be pursued by the injured party in a civil action."_

Blinking in confusion and swiveling around on his chair, the attorney wannabe threw a pencil at his brother, and hitting the back of his head, asked, "Cam, are you injured?"

Eyes flying open wide and rubbing his head, Cam tried to sound helpful. Putting his tank down and nibbling at the spoils of war, he shrugged and said,

"Um, don' know. Maybe, I can be pretty clumsy."

Picking at his scabbed knee, he crowed with triumph. "That stoopid cat tripped me up when I tried to jump on him." Sighing at the memory, he added regretfully, "Puss is a lot fasta than he looks."

Rolling his eyes and muttering, "Why do I bother," under his breath, Daniel read the bamboozling legal speak again. "Gosh, this is nothing like Judge Judy, she just bangs that little hammer, and yells at everyone." Chewing his thumbnail thoughtfully, he decided that yelling at Jack would be tantamount to disaster. "Mm, he'll get crankier, and then I'll have to have him thrown out of the cart room."

Jumping out of his chair and casually shoving his hands in his pockets, Danny walked over to the door, and peering down the hallway, looked at the upset table and frowned. "Okay, I can figure this out. How hard can the law be?"

Scratching his head, Dan ran through the definition in his mind and mumbled, "I wonder who this Private Wrong is? Shouldn't that be Airman Wrong? Purse? Does that mean I have to have to take a purse with me?" Thinking carefully, he decided it would be more professional to borrow Teal'c's man bag.

Taking a deep breath and scowling at Cam lying on the carpet now busily occupied in coloring in_ his_ new book with _his_ new crayons, Danny huffed, and decided to double his fee.

"Hey! I thought you said you didn't take my new book! Are they my new crayons? Cam you are so going to get it." Leaping from his chair and pouncing on his startled brother, the world famous attorney and his thieving client rolled around the floor. With a final huff, Daniel snatched back a broken, green crayon and looking at the desk with the open book, sighed, and sat back down again.

It was far more difficult than he imagined, and the words made no sense. The dust from the old book irritating his allergies, Dan rubbed at his itchy eyes with the palm of his hand. Sneezing, he looked at the opened page, and with a finger under each word, once again read the confusing text. _'The tort is a private wrong that must be pursued by the injured party in a civil action.'_

"Injured? Cammie just said he wasn't injured" Shrugging a shoulder, Danny remembered the rickety table, and Jack's furious expression. "Yep, this must mean the table was injured." Reading the word _party_ several times, the clueless little attorney got excited and asked his brother if they should serve chicken fingers and cup cakes for the party.

"It says here the injured table has a party. The dumb ole table can't eat, so it must mean it's for us!"

Cam put down the crayons, and jumping to his feet, felt his interest inexplicably piqued. Mimicking Homer Simpson he said, "_Mmm, cup-cakes_!" Licking his lips, he patted his belly in anticipation. Conveniently forgetting he was in deep disgrace and supposed to be in his room, Cam began to plan the party. Always the optimist, he thumped Danny's back saying cheerfully, "Maybe Daddy will make lemonade _and_ chocolate cupcakes?"

"Yep, and maybe he'll cook us wieners! Hey, breaking the table was a great idea, Cam! We'll have to invite Sam, and General Landry. We won't ask Dr.Lam, she might bring a needle and stick us!" Cam's enthusiasm was contagious, but Daniel knew there was a few more minor points he needed to iron out. The paragraph he'd based his entire case on confused him, and he needed to understand it a little better. Just in case, someone ask him a question in cross-examination.

Googling the words _civil action,_ Dan and Cam had looked at each other and shrugged. Plenty of sites on the American Civil War appeared, and Daniel wondered if he needed to mention they were American and not English. Looking at the pictures, the boys giggled at the thought of Jack wearing the old-fashioned uniforms. Deciding it had nothing to do with a civil action, Cameron urged his counsel to call his co-counsel.

"I don' think this has much to do with my basketball, Danny. Think you'd better ring Teal'c, I'm sure he'll know. Remember, he knows everything."

Daniel bristled at the inference the co-counsel knew more then him… the world famous attorney. Wrinkling his nose and sniffing, Danny told him firmly that wasn't going to happen.

"No I can't! Just remember, Cameron, you are my client and Teal'c is just the co-consort! I'm the legal brains in the family and don't you forget it."

Cameron had a rare moment of awareness, and looking at his red-faced brother carefully, asked, "Then how come you don't know what _civil action_ means?"

The congenial atmosphere turned ugly, and jumping to his feet, fists bunched on his hips, Danny stamped his foot angrily.

"I do so! I just think there might be some thing I'm missing. Now, do you want Daddy to give you that spanking or not?"

"Huh? Duh! Nooo, Okay, I'll believe you! Read out my defense again, maybe it'll make more sense this time!"

Fishing out a chocolate chip cookie he'd managed to smuggle out of the kitchen, Dan carefully broke it in half and handed a portion to Cam. Licking his fingers one by one, the little linguist decided he needed to sound more confident and explained it meant you had to be nice to everyone.

"Civil means polite. Action is a…action. Civil action, means being nice. Rats! This means we have to be nice to Daddy, even though technically he's the enemy. Oh well, it's not really his fault his son is a legal genius."

Slapping his hands in the air, and turning to look at his brother, Daniel explained the next part of his foolproof, never say die, tactics. "I have to deliver this supmarina to Daddy in his den. Now, you can back to your own room, and leave it all to me. It's how we attorneys earn our big, fat fees. When I come back, I'll tell you everything, okay?"

Cameron was becoming more dubious by the second, but the alternative didn't bear thinking about. Nodding his head, he snuck out of Daniel's room and obediently returned to his own.

Danny took a deep breath, and slicking down his hair, crayon rakishly behind his ear, he took his writ and knocked on the den door. "Excuse me? Is there a Jack O'Neill in there? I have a summons to deliver."

Hearing, '_Oh, please!'_ Dan refused to feel offended, and opening the door, scampered in. Walking up to Jack's chair, he cleared his throat, and politely shook his arm. Handing him the envelope, Danny tapped his foot impatiently. Jack was clearly more interested in reading the sports pages and drinking his coffee.

"Daddy, you have to pay attention. This is a supmarina, and that means you are being sued!" Now, the trial starts after you help me make the lemonade and chicken fingers for the party."

"Party?" Jack shook his head wondering when he missed the first and obviously vital clue.

"Yes, Daddy! Are you listening to me? The party for the cart case! Teal'c is my co-consort, and you have to invite Sam and General Landry. Not Dr Lam though, she isn't invited! Now, if you read this, it will explain everything!"

"That a fact?" Reluctantly putting down his paper and tilting his head to the side, Jack's curious gaze settled on his young charge, and he politely took the offered envelope. Groaning, he cursed softly as pencil shavings fluttered into his freshly made cup of coffee. "Crap! Daniel, can you throw me a bone next time?" Banging his mug down and glaring at the clueless child, Jack tried to decipher the green and purple crayon written note. Giving it up as a lost cause, he rubbed at his temple and asked wearily, "Daniel, why don't you just tell Daddy what you want. The game is on in ten minutes and Teal'c is coming over to talk through it."

Patting Jack's knee in a silent command to be allowed up, Daniel climbed up and settled himself comfortably. Snatching the illegible note from Jack's fingers, he made up the words as he went along.

"It says that you are the tartfeastor, and your victim is my client. It also explains that you have to make cup cups, lemonade and grill wieners. You have a lot to do, Daddy!"

Looking into the disbelieving face of his father, the little boy wriggled to get more comfortable. He felt it was all going very well. Patting Jack's face kindly, Dan cleared his throat, and shaking the note in front of himself importantly; he coughed, and continued.

"At nine o'clock this morning did you or did you not wrongfully growl at my client, and then meanly confiscate his basketball? Remember, Daddy, you are under oaf!"

"Oaf, huh?" Nodding his head and agreeing that sounded about right, the general motioned for Dan to continue.

"That's an admission of guilt! Phew, Daddy! You're not very good at this legal stuff, are you? Well, in that case, we are seeking damages of five whole dollars! Also, General O'Neill, we the plaintoffee's, demand the safe return of Cammie's ball."

Scrambling down and feeling the deposition went well; Daniel informed his daddy that Teal'c would not be watching the game.

"Teal'c is my co- consort, and I need him to be completely objection." Glancing over his shoulder and ignoring the, "_oh puhlesse_," Dan sniffed, and said," Sam can't speak to you either, Daddy, she is on jelly duty."

Jack cocked his head, and titling it slightly, looked at his fair-haired child thoughtfully.

"Jelly duty? She only likes blue I think. So, I'm being sued, huh? By my own children no less. Well, then, I best sharpen my pencils and prepare my defense. It's a good thing I took all those legal units."

Danny visibly paled, and gulping, he stammered, "L-law u-units? Huh? Wh- Whe- "

Feeling faint and collapsing onto the couch, Danny watched his life's work disappear onto a time out chair. How was he going to tell his trusting client that their daddy had legal expertise after all.

Jack tried gamely not to burst out laughing at the crest fallen child slumped in front of him. With a wink, he pulled his stunned child to his feet, and patted his bottom firmly.

"You don't get to be a general cos you're good looking."

Tucking the note into his shirt pocket, Jack said, "Better gather the troops I guess."

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly  
Series: Dan and Cam. The Court Case.  
Title: Cupcakes. Pt 4#  
Warnings: None.

Category: Kidfic.  
Feedback: Yes, Please.

TORTFEASOR - A wrong-doer, one who does wrong; one who commits a trespass or is guilty of a tort. A tort is an act that injures someone in some way, and for which the injured person may sue the wrongdoer for damages. Legally, torts are called civil wrongs, as opposed to criminal ones. Nowhere does it infer cupcakes need to be prepared**.**

OoO

Jack just had to know. Wasn't every day one got sued by one's first graders.

"So, tell me again, why am I inviting everyone? He figured it was wiser if he knew_ all_ the facts. His kids could be slippery little suckers, and he didn't want any nasty surprises down the track. "Why am I the tortfeasor again? You do know what that means don't you, Daniel? Now's the time to say something."

"Of course I do, Daddy! Please, I am a fully aware of my legal re-spon-sib-il-tities!"

"You don't say. How about you explain it to me, on the off chance I don't know?"

"Well, a tarfeater is someone who is mean and takes away a basketball for no reason. It's not a criminal cart though, it's a civil thingy. It means, Daddy, I can sue you!"

"Thank you, it's all _much_ clearer now. I am being sued because I confiscated my child's basketball after he threw it inside the house and broke both a table and several items belonging to me. Now, this little pest had been previously warned not to throw balls inside, and yet he did. Therefore, despite me catching him red-handed, I'm still the one being sued. Now, for some reason, I have to supply party food for a broken table? Mm, makes sense I guess."

"Huh? Oh, okay. Yes, you seem to understand. Those law units you took may have been useful."

"Ya think? So, explain the cupcakes to me one more time."

Crinkling his brow, Jack listened carefully as Dan earnestly explained the necessity for party food.

"It's the law, Daddy!"

"Why?"

Daniel was beginning to feel very frustrated. Jack just wasn't getting it, and having to explain every little detail was taking precious time away from preparing Cameron's much needed and desperate defense. Reaching up on his tippy toes and shoving his dusty book into Jack's face, Danny pointed to the one hi-lighted paragraph. "See? Here, read this bit, it says we need to have a party." Folding arms across his tiny chest, Daniel added in his haughty, legal eaglet voice, "This paragraph is all I need! Daddy, you're toast!"

"_RRigght!" _A crooked smile flittered across the general's face, and he snorted quietly. Delicately pushing the book back with his finger, he said, "So, where in this one paragraph does it say I have to provide cupcakes?" Jack knew Danny was losing his temper, but figured he deserved the gentle teasing. Insufferably pompous, the little boy needed a tiny reality check. Cam was in trouble, and there was no way around it. He had deliberately thrown a ball inside the house and then flatly lied about it. He'd deal with his little vandal in good time, but he needed to sort out the world's greatest attorney first.

Stamping his foot and feeling his face flush, Danny was close to tears. None of this was going according to plan, and he had a sneaky suspicion Jack was teasing him. Tapping the page again, he drew a deep breath and read out the paragraph one more time, "_The tort is a private wrong that must be pursued by the injured party in a civil action_." See, there's a party mentioned! Really, Daddy, it makes sense to me! A party means cupcakes and pop!

With logic like that, the general found it hard to refuse. Besides, Teal'c was already coming for lunch, so what was a few more? Carter loved spending time with the kids, and Jack liked to include Hank occasionally. The Mountain could be a lonely place, and Jack knew all about being lonely. His motto was simple. The more people who loved his kids… the better!

"Okay cupcake, cupcakes it is. I suppose if our courts provided party food, folk wouldn't feel so dang cranky."

"Yes, that is very true. You know, Daddy, you should write to the President. It's a very good idea! At play group you'd even get a gold star!"

"Got gold stars, cupcake, don't need anymore."

"Silly Daddy!"

Tickling the part time, world famous attorney into hysterics, Jack agreed to provide lunch followed by chocolate cupcakes and pop. Walking into the den, Daniel clinging to his leg, the general cordially invited Sam and Hank for lunch. Followed by a lawsuit. _Attendance compulsory_. It didn't hurt that the ice hockey game was on in the afternoon, and Hank and Carter were rabid fans of the Minnesota Wild. Teal'c insisted on talking through games, and Jack figured he could coerce Sam into distracting him. This would leave him and Hank free to referee the game in earnest. Being a fair-minded man, he decided they could tag team Carter; occasionally swapping seats. Depending on the score. No promises.

Daniel listened carefully, and resembling a drowning gold fish gulping for air, demanded to know why Jack was laughing into the phone. This lawsuit was a serious business, and he couldn't understand the talk about beer and ice hockey games. Surely, there would be no time for entertainment? Folding his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, Daniel demanded an explanation.

"Daddy! Why are you inviting General Landry? Why were you laughing so hard on the phone? What game? How can you watch the game if you are being sued? Daddy, you are going to lose this way for sure!"

"Oh, so _now_ I have a chance? Things are looking up for me." With his crooked trademark grin, Jack was enjoying himself. "Well, Perry Mason, we may need a judge and who better than a general?" Whistling Dixie and ruffling Daniel's hair, he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Let's see, eggs, milk, vexatious litigant."

_  
An hour later…give or take_

Daniel was getting a little nervous. His client ignored him and insisted on playing with his army men. Jack ignored him, too busy cooking and cleaning, and he still didn't understand his paragraph. He would have liked to ask Jack's opinion, but that didn't seem correct. The defense attorney really couldn't take advice from the tartlefeator. What would Judge Judy say! Drumming his fingers on the kitchen table, the world's most famous attorney was beginning to show signs of self-doubt. The sharks were circling.

"Tell me again why do we need a judge, Daddy? You are guilty!" Danny needed to hear all his hard work was worth the trouble. Cam had lost interest, and Jack was putting peanuts out for the game. He was the only one taking it seriously!

Jack tripped over Daniel for the third time, and gritting his teeth, shooed him away from the hot tray of cupcakes.

"Aht! No touching, Perry! Why do we need Hank? Other than to watch the game with? Well, let's see, we have the attorney and his co-counsel. I'm here, naturally; Carter is on jury duty, so we needed a judge. General Landry will be impartial; it's not as if we are old friends. He won't be swayed by the fact I out rank him, and I am sure he doesn't feel as though he owes me one." Taking the wieners from the freezer and zapping them in the microwave, Jack shrugged, "So, are we squared away?"

"I guess so, Daddy. Really, you can make sense when you try!"

Happy with this explanation although a _little_ concerned by Jack's lopsided grin, Danny skipped around the table. Nodding his head, and replaying the conversation in his head in case he missed something, Daniel slammed on tiny fist into the palm of his other hand.

"Okay, Daddy! If you're sure you aren't up to anything that could get me de-bra-ed and Cam thrown into the slammer, I guess Hank can come along." Wagging his finger, he thought it prudent to mention his cart room was a dry area. "No beer, Daddy! Only pop!"

"Dang!"

Danny eyed the lopsided cakes greedily, and licking his lips with anticipation, bubbled, "Mm, yummy! Cammie and me should take you to the cleaners every Saturday!"

"Out."

Lunchtime at the O'Neill's.

Hands on hip, Jack threw the last toy into the toy box. The house, he sighed, was as neat as it was ever going to get. With two little boys, and a cat no one remembered buying, he did the best he could. The nuts were in bowls and the beer was chilling. Hearing the knock on his front door, and with a snort of laughter, he murmured, "Game on!" Opening the front door and waving his arm with a flourish, Jack ushered his friends into the kitchen. Ever obliging, Hank had collected Sam and Teal'c, and bemused, the guests were agog. They'd never been invited to a lawsuit come barbeque before, and didn't know what to expect. One thing was for sure, this case was bound to be interesting.

Jack was the perfect host as well as occasional tortfeasor. "Come in, Teal'c; take the weight off your feet."

Teal'c looked at him and grinned. "Thank you, O'Neill. My weight is within the parameters for my height. I am in the peak of health and physical fitness."

"Of course, what was I thinking?"

"Indeed."

The obligatory banter taken care off, Jack stuck his fingers into his mouth, and elicited a low whistle, "Boys? Company's here." Handing Hank a beer and ignoring the noise of whooping children stampeding down the stairs, Jack leaned closed and said, "Hank, you're here to be the judge, so make sure I don't lose."

Hank waggled his eyebrows and took a deep drink. With a satisfying, _Ahhh_, he patted his belly and said, "Yep, you betcha, Jack" Throwing his arms out wide, the general encouraged the two little boys to barrel into his ample chest. Excited by the impromptu party, Dan and Cam jostled happily, struggling to gain his attention.

"Whoa, settle down there, airmen! Suing your daddy, huh?" Tweaking Cam's freckled nose, General Landry wagged his finger, and said with mock sternness," I hope you aren't a going to be a, what was that word you used before, Jack? A vexatious litigant? "

Cameron wiggled out of the warm hug and taking a step back, wrinkled his nose in confusion. He didn't know what the general said, but it sounded mighty green and unpleasant, like sprouts. "Huh? A vege-ta-balls what? I don't like vege-ta-balls, General!"

Flapping his hands in the air and looking very concerned, Cam thought it prudent to clear up any misconceptions about the lunch menu instantly. Moving in closer to the general and looking into his face, Cammie said slowly, "We're _not_ having any dumb ole sprouts at our party! My daddy cooked us chicken strips and chocolate cup cakes! The cakes have chocolate icing on them, haven't they Daddy?

Agreeing the cakes were very chocolate, Jack waggled his eyebrows and played his first card.

"So, Hank, a vexatious litigant? Well, my children wouldn't dream of bringing legal action against their daddy, regardless of it merits. It wouldn't occur to them to bring a frivolous lawsuit just to wriggle out of a well-deserved smacked bottom. No, definitely doesn't sound something my boys would try. Especially given the fact, the big game is on TV this afternoon. Isn't that right, children?"

Cam turned around to face his daddy, and blinked with confusion. Looking for his mouthpiece to jump in with a clever retort, Cam spluttered, "Y-yes, D-daddy! Um, N-no, D-daddy! Danny?"

Fiddling with his notes, Danny missed his queue. After replaying Jack's speech in his mind, he turned around and huffed crossly, "Cam! He's sounding tricky! Take the fifty -seventh!" Wriggling away from Hank's bear hug, the tiny legal eaglet squawked, "Daddy! Were you threatening Cam with big words? Teal'c says you can be held in content of cart."

"I think you mean contempt of court, and I _am _entitled to voice an opinion." Shaking his head, Jack winked at Carter's bemused face. "Danny, com'ere. Now, while I love the idea of you standing up for your brother, I think you might be putting the cart case before the domesticated equine." Waggling his eyebrows, his brown eyes crinkling with mischief, Jack squatted down and added, "If you put the case before the equine, is the equine is the judge?"

"What's an equine? Are you being tricky again?" Daniel leaned back into Hank's chest and chewed his lip. This was all very confusing, and his one paragraph was looking very lame.

"Sorry, I promise to quit horsing around." Jack grinned at Carter and winked.

Guffawing loudly and snorting beer through her nose, Carter spluttered helplessly. "I'm sorry, sir, but how do these things always happen to you?"

Jack stood slowly to his feet, his knees groaning with the effort of kneeling. With a wince, he said, "I do not know. _I wish I did-- but truly-- I do not_."

_The Tart Cart is convened_.

Dipping celery into her revolting sour cream and pumpkin dip, Sam watched as Daniel dragged Jack's laptop across the room. Panting, red in the face, the youngster banged it onto the kitchen table with a thud. Wincing, very glad it wasn't hers, she whispered behind her hand, "Oops, that can't be good, sir." Smiling indulgently as the little boy ran his sleeve under his nose several times; she thought to herself, '_Oh, poor Daniel, he's in over his head I fear.'  
_

Watching as Daniel scampered out and return with his one, dusty, legal book, Sam bit back another giggle. She wasn't sure what look he was going for, but he looked adorable never the less. Cap on back to front, he had a green crayon behind one ear, and a blue pencil rakishly behind the other. Dragging a chair over and throwing himself down, he looked hard at work, trying to research his lost cause of a case. "Oh, Danny, some things just never change!" Taking a sip of beer and idly glancing around the room, she spied Cam, and leaning forward to listen, rolled her eyes. '_Yep, some things truly never_ _change_!' Chocolate smeared all over his t-shirt, Cameron looked particularly shifty as he tried to hoodwink Hank into retrieving his basketball.

"Daddy won't 's'pect another general. If you get it for me I'll share my five dollars with you." Narrowing his eyes, Cammie cupped his hand to across his mouth, and whispered, "You can have my brother's share."

"That so? How very generous of you, Cameron. "Hank scooped up the desperate little con artist, and dumping him on his lap, smiled at Sam and laughed, _"_This is a nut house."_  
_

OoO

Chicken strips and cupcakes with yummy icing devoured, Jack restored the kitchen to something resembling its normal chaotic state. Dishwasher humming away, coffee percolator percolating, the humble kitchen table was cleared and made ready for its big day. Even the salt and peppershakers were impressed.

"Okay, Daniel, I want this court convened now, Hank and I have business we need to discuss. Cameron, stay exactly where I can see you, we still need to have a chat."

Both boys groaning, Danny cleared his throat nervously. Standing up on his chair, he boomed, "It's time to converge the cart room" Nervous his palms sweaty, the little mouthpiece opened his pad and scanned his notes. It didn't take him long; Cam had smeared chocolate icing all over them. Licking the paper before having it snatched out of his hands by Jack, Danny heaved a great sighed.

The big screen television babbled away in the family room, where everyone _really _wanted to be. In the background, the over loud commercials boomed, and the commentators talked excitedly about the Wilds odds of winning the game. High definition and new, Jack's flat screen TV was the perfect for watching the game. However… on the kitchen bench sat an ancient black and white TV, and peering at the fuzzy picture, both the generals sighed in unison.

"Jack?"

"I know."

"No hope?"

"Think snowflake in hell."

OoO

Daniel looked from Jack to Hank and then back again. His worst fears were coming true. He was fast losing his audience. The lure of the big game was proving to strong for the grown-ups. With a muffled squawk, he knew he had to move quickly, before Jack started to referee the game. Refereeing was a play on words. This really meant arguing with the refs, the commentators, and anyone else in the room. Raising his voice, Daniel demanded they all pay attention to him and take their places _immediately._ Pointing to various chairs, he imperiously directed traffic.

"Daddy, you have to sit over there!" Pointing to a chair by the backdoor, Daniel nodded with satisfaction. Cammie, you hafta sit with me, and Teal'c you can sit behind me. Remember, you are only the co-consort, so don't speak unless I ask you something, okay? Sam, you're over there, and General Landry, you'd better sit at the top of the table."

Unfortunately, nobody moved a muscle. Daniel slapped his hand on his forehead in frustration. His family, he groaned, had the attention span of goldfish. Jack continued to lean against the backdoor, and talking to Hank, fiddled with the hinges. Interested in the ice-hockey score, Sam had edged further out the kitchen and into the family room. Only Teal'c sat where he was directed. Cam foolishly danced around the tuttlefesal's legs, demanding another cup cake, spilling pop all over the floor.

Raising his voice another octave, Daniel snapped. Normally a polite and well-mannered child, the indignity of being studiously ignored enraged him. He did what Judge Judy would do, and banging the meat tenderizer on the table, he bellowed for everyone to "shut up." Now, television theatrics is one thing, but rude little boys quite another, and with mouths ajar, everyone turned and gaped at Jack. This was completely unlike Daniel, and even Cameron, dropping his cup cake, squeaked with horror.

Coulda heard a pin drop. The courtroom came to a shuddering silence. What worked for the Judge clearly didn't work for Daniel, and eyeing him carefully, Jack dragged his chair to the centre of the room. "That's enough!" Scooping the world's most famous attorney onto his hip, he jiggled him enough times to make sure he had the little boy's undivided attention. Jack was a good sport, and indulged his children more than most, but good manners were non-negotiable. Screaming shut up at the grown-ups was a stretch.

Jack looked his bossy little child in the eye before saying firmly, "Excuse me, Daniel. Care to rephrase that before I count to three? _One-two_-"

Jack didn't need to get to three; Daniel buried his head into his shoulder and whispered his apologies for sounding the _tiniest_ bit rude. Wriggling down and blinking furiously, Danny looked mortified. He'd been rude to his guests and now he was up to the dreaded number two. Could things get any worse? One more and it meant trouble. A possible loss of a green stars or worse. The day was deteriorating quickly, and he needed to do some fast-talking. Fortunately, for Daniel, he had the perfect reply. He burst into tears. Always guaranteed to break up a party.

The co-consort took pity on his lead counsel, and walking over pulled him into a hug. His brown eyes gentle with love, Teal'c said, "Daniel Jackson, kree shak shel nok." Smiling and hoisting the sobbing child onto his hip, he explained the words both softly and calmly.

"This means we will never surrender. Now, are you ready to begin the Cor-ai?"

TBC….


	16. Chapter 16

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly.  
Series: Dan and Cam –The Court Case.  
Title: Jury Tampering.  
Category: General. Kidfic.  
Warnings: None.

While the world's greatest attorney banged his head repeatedly on his co-consorts shoulder, Sam shook her's with sympathy. "Oh, poor Danny," she soothed all the while throwing covert glares at the tort- feaster.

"I'm sure your daddy didn't mean to growl at you!" Sam itched to hug Daniel, but knew he'd be mortified to be coddled in public.

"Yup, he sure did." Jack returned her glare just as coolly. He wasn't having a bar of it. His children, he reminded her, did not _yell_ at anyone to shut-up… end of story.

Not wanting to agree, but secretly doing so any way, Sam spied Cameron shuffling his feet and a looking decidedly lost. Waggling her fingers inviting the little defendant to take them, Carter decided to cut her losses and concentrate on the other miscreant. "Com'on, sweetie, why don't you tell me how you are going to spend all those damages? Fast cars? Fancy holidays? Bubblegum?"

Giggling and happy to oblige, the little southern gentleman scampered forward, grabbed, and squeezed Sam's fingers back lightly. Looking into her eyes, his own melting adoringly, he played his trump card, the one _guaranteed_ to melt the ladies hearts.

"Boy, I sure do wish you were our mama and lived with us." Looking back at Jack and narrowing his blue eyes a little, Cam added sweetly, "I love you the best, Sam."

OoO

Jack groaned and resisted the urge to find a wall to knock his head against. He had to hand it to his kid; Cam knew how to play the room. "Oh please!" As he watched his manipulative little boy snuggled into Carter's arms, he bunched his hands onto his hips and shook his head. As his ex- 2IC and Cam happily smooched, the general took a deep breath, and decided to ask the hard questions. Someone had to he figured; the attorney and his Jaffa sidekick were still occupied consoling each other. He was fast looking like the bad guy, his shabby halo well and truly dented.

Clearing his throat, Jack reminded them all why he was the general. "Just a cotton pickin' moment! Isn't that jury tampering? Should the litigant be smooching with the jury?" Throwing his hands in the air, Jack snorted at Carter's sassy look, "What the …? Hank, did ya see that? In my part of the world, that is cause for a court martial."

Hank showed why **he** was a general, and refused to be drawn into controversy. No sireebob! He had a game to watch. "Nope, sorry, Jack. It would never hold up." Grinning and making his way to the fridge, he chucked Cam under his chin and laughed softly. 'Yep, nut house!'

Jack watched as Sam shrugged her shoulder, waving a celery stalk in the air. Cam on her hip and encouraging his giggles, she replied happily, "Fine! I'll just have to hire Daniel, sir. I sure he'll get me off and award me lots of damages!" Smiling at the world famous attorney, she walked over to the hiccoughing little boy, and added kindly, "Won't you sweetie."

Daniel hadn't recovered from his brain freeze and smarted under the parental rebuke. "N-n-noooo, I don't think so! Daddy growled at me! Maybe you didn't notice?" Rubbing his runny nose back and forth on Teal'c's nifty cashmere sweater, Daniel badly wanted to know his disgrace wasn't noticed. After all, he had a hard lined reputation in legal circles to uphold.

Leaning in very close, her breath ghosting his ear, Sam assured him that they'd all heard nothing.

"Hey?" Hank didn't see the need to be diplomatic, he had a game to ref, cashews to eat, beer to drink. "Course we did! Given the fact, the attorney is being sent to his room, trial is duly… dismissed. General? Shall we adjourn to the living room? Catch the second half?"

If Hank was pleased with himself, then Jack was delighted. He'd had enough of the tiny drama queens for the day. "Ah! I insist. General, after you!" Jack clapped his hands together and eyed a cold beer sitting unprotected on the kitchen table.

"No, No, after you!" Hank eyed the same forlorn bottle.

While the generals were busy congratulating themselves, the small colonel with the cowlick and freckles, had other plans. There was still the matter of the spare bedroom and its ramifications to consider. A smacked bottom, so to speak, was back on the table.

Wiggling down from his perch and grabbing his glass, Cameron took a sip, and squeaked his objections. "Just a cotton pickin' folks!" Eyeing his brother dozing against Teal'c's shoulder the little colonel began to panic. He_ really_ didn't want to discuss run-away basketballs with certain, cranky, daddy like, tortlefewsters. Nope, he had some hard -fast- finkin' to do! With his glass of pop sloshing back and forth, precariously over filled, the little flyboy stated his case.

"Hang on, ya'll! If Dan has to take a nap, then I guess I'm gonna be my own attor-en-key! Daddy! Sit yourself right back down. Sam! Back to the jelly seats! Teal'c, when you come back, will you be my co-counter? General Landry, back to the judge's seat! We have a tart to convent!" Cam had survived his first childhood by thinking quick on his feet, and some memories were permanently ingrained. If you didn't know the rules to the game? Fine! Make em up as you go! _Never_ back down and_ never_ admit defeat!

"Oh fer the love of Mike! If its not one little maniac then it's the other!" Jack could feel the blockbuster of a game slipping away. The beer was going warm. The nuts turning stale. Crouching down, and placing his hands on his knees, Jack looked at his determined child and raised an enquiring eyebrow. If Cam figured he'd play by his own rules, then Jack invented them.

Placing a finger under Cameron's chin, the canny general asked the question they all dreaded. "So, you are going to conduct your own defense, Cameron? That's very brave." Tapping the little boy on his flushed cheek, Jack warned he hadn't actually forgotten the reason they had guests in the first place. "When everyone leaves, kiddo, you and I have a bit to sort out."

"Not when I win the cart case, Daddy! 'Member! It's all circumsized episcent!"

"Cut to the chase one would say?"

"Cut what?"

Like the natural born leader he was, Cammie made the best out of what he had. Which really wasn't much, but desperate times an all? "I've read the same paragraph and feel more than quockified."

"Oh please!" Jack's patience was fast running out. Not that there was ever an abundance of it in the first place. The hall-table was broken, the knick-knacks smashed, and a small boy responsible. He didn't see the math was all that tricky.

Catching Jack's glance, and seeing the slight incline of his head, Teal'c whispered, "Come along, Daniel, a nap is in order." The legal beagle's day in court had come and gone. Closing his eyes, completely mortified, the world's most hopeful attorney sniffed, "I quit! I don't wanna be an attorney anymore!"

Teal'c agreed; the cor'ai hadn't gone well, and a dignified exit was called for. "That would be for the best, Daniel Jackson. You are an archeologist after all."

OoO

With a decidedly predatory look, the general studied the little colonel, and thought, 'Mm, one airman down, one to go.'

Returning the look, the colonel tapped his chin thoughtfully. "What to do…what to do??"

TBC…Game on.


	17. Chapter 17

July in Minnesota springs meant long hot days fading into long hot nights, and Jack was sick of the heat already

Author: Amberfly

Series: The Cabin.

Title: Dan and Cam's Time. 03#

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes, please.

July in Minnesota Springs meant long, hot days fading into long, hot nights, and Jack was tired of it already. It wasn't the heat; it was the sound of his small boys complaining they were melting and could he _pleeaaasseee_ take them swimming. The local pool was every parent's worst nightmare. Overly crowded, overly expensive, and overly chlorinated, it was always filled with a million kids, and Jack wasn't sure how much longer he could tolerate the sounds of squealing, yelling, hyper-active kids. Watching his nut brown children splash around, their faces slick with sun cream, Jack sat back on the grass, wincing as a particularly ear-splitting screech came from somewhere behind him. Shutting his eyes briefly, he swore he heard the mournful cry of the loon beckoning him, and with a start, knew he'd been called. Called back to the one place that had the capacity to fill Jack with both joy and heart break at the same time. Back to Otter Tail County and the summertime families.

OoO

Nearly fifty years before, Jack's grandfather, Seamus O'Neill had built a timber cabin on Rush Lake near Otter Tail County. As a small, freckled faced boy, Jack had spent most of his vacations with his grandparents, and he considered these among his happiest memories. He had loved his grandparents dearly, and when they passed, he inherited both their love of the out-doors and the wooden cabin. His father hadn't minded; he knew Jack and Seamus were kindred spirits, and he'd hoped his restless son would find the peace he needed there. Jack had, and for the briefest of times, his own family had spent their long summers relaxing at Otter Tail. The O'Neill's were a popular summer-time family, and when Jack wasn't on overseas deployment, they spent the summer fishing, swimming, and smelling the cut grass. It was exactly what the battle weary soldier needed, and the sense of family and belonging had truly fed his soul. However one summer's day, the O'Neill's peaceful life's changed forever.

Always curious, and happy to scout his boundaries, Charlie played with something he knew he shouldn't have. Jack had never allowed his son to play with toy rifles, water pistols, or cap guns, and despite Charlie knowing this non-negotiable rule, he borrowed a friend's toy water pistol. His brown eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of disobedience, Charlie hid in his play house and waited for the tell tale creak of the back gate. It was a hot, summer's day, and stifling giggles, Charlie planned on ambushing his unsuspecting dad and soaking him with water. Hearing the gate swing open, Charlie tore out of his play house, whooping, and pointing the toy gun. "Bang! You're dead!" His cheeky face grinning, and his childish voice far too loud, Jack was taken unawares, and taking a step backwards, swallowed the familiar taste of fear. For the briefest of seconds, the bright blue plastic water-gun waving at him posed a threat, and baseball glove forgotten, Jack clicked his fingers and sternly demanded it be handed over. His lips taut with annoyance, all thoughts of playing catch with the new glove forgotten, Jack was furious with his son's casual disobedience. Charlie had been equally as furious, and hurling the toy at his dad, ran into the house, tears of frustration streaming down his face. With the predilection of the young, and wanting to punish his father for being mean, Charlie made one poor decision after the other. Creeping into his parent's room, he opened the dresser draw quietly and took the one thing he knew he was never to touch.

Jack was Special Ops trained, and could make army boots sound like moccasins, and walking up the stairs, called out to Charlie, wanting to make his peace. Eyes wide with fright, knowing if he were caught there'd be serious repercussions; Charlie slammed the drawer shut, and with only seconds to spare, scampered into the hallway. Brown eyes melting with innocence, Charlie managed to distract his dad long enough for him to forget to ask what exactly he'd been doing in his bedroom. Jack was just pleased their precious time together wouldn't be spent arguing, and ruffling his son's hair, hugged the little boy tightly. If Jack hadn't called out his warning, or maybe loped up the stairs two at a time, he might have been in time to catch the curious little boy, but fate had her plan in motion.

Two weeks later while his parents sat in the backyard; Charlie remembered where his dad hid his side arm, and creeping in, opened the drawer one last time.

OoO

The after effects of Charlie's accident left the O'Neill's emotional train wrecks. Jack and Sara O'Neill were blinded by their grief, and despite the love they shared, they couldn't get past their pain. Jack spiraled into a dangerous depression, and Sara took what was left of her life, and running to the safety of her father, made herself forget the man she once loved. At the bottom of a whiskey bottle, Jack became an ugly stranger. Disgusted and frightened, Sara understood that she couldn't be near him anymore.

Life has to go on though, and years lessened the pain of losing their only child. Gradually Jack and Sara forgave each other, and carefully rebuilt their lives. Jack's star shone, and he found a new family who needed his kind of strength and love, and while he never forgot Charlie, he allowed himself to be happy again. Years flew by, and the courageous colonel became a savvy general, and moved to the bustling world of politics and its circling sharks. The politicians and the thousand dollar suits working at the Pentagon never knew what to make of General O'Neill; his gritty, warrior ways making them feel uncomfortably wanting. Jack mistrusted them right back, and with every new piece of paper that hit his desk demanding to be devoured, Jack felt the nudge of the _wot-ifs_. Had it been worth it? The pain, the sacrifice, and the bone numbing loneliness? He missed the SGC, particularly his team, and he missed the rush of adrenalin making his finger's twitch, and his heart wanted to beat out of his chest. Retirement knocked on his door, and getting slowly to his metaphorical feet, Jack thought about opening it. Fate will never be denied, and out of the blue, a phone call changed his life. Mouth ajar and listening with disbelief, Jack found himself being asked to parent two little boys.

Ooo

Two of SG-1's finest, Colonel Cameron Mitchell, and Dr.Daniel Jackson touched a device that coulda… woulda… shoulda… been disabled by Professor Felgar and Dr.Lee. Given time and with** no** interference from curious archeologists and their bored colonels, Felgar may have come up with an answer. Daniel's inquisitiveness coupled with Cam's impulsiveness put paid to that. Picking up the pretty device, Dr Jackson waved away Bill Lee's objections, and proceeded to misread its warnings. Fed up, and breathing over his shoulder, Cam decided to help things along by switching the colored crystals. Bill Lee screamed his warning, but Daniel, followed closely by Cameron was sucked into a vacuum of blinding light. Finally waking hours later, their physiology had twisted and changed dramatically. Before the doctors' disbelieving eyes, the alien device transformed the two six feet plus, SG-1 team mates into the size of five year old children. Given the heads-up by his daughter, Hank stormed into the infirmary and furiously demanded answers. With a heavy heart, the General left soon after with none.

"Please, General, I don't know anything yet! I need to run more tests. Dad! Calm down! You're frightening them!" Carolyn pleaded for peace. She needed to process what had happened to her friends, and the infirmary was in chaos.

"Frightening them? **They** are combat trained members of my flagship team! Doctor Lam, do something!" Hank glared at his daughter silently demanding a miracle.

Dr. Lam shook her head, and shooing the flummoxed general out, restored order to her infirmary. Daniel and Cam yawned with disinterest, and sitting sat cross legged, watched Carolyn's every move with bright, intelligent eyes. Chatting companionably together, the former SGC hot-shots demanded ice cream, and all their neat toys.

Professor Felgar swooned and then hyper ventilated. Given a paper bag, he simultaneously patted Danny's head, breathed deeply, and flapped his arms around denying culpability.

Dr Lee edged towards the door. He'd studied the boys carefully, and with nervous twitch, asked if General O'Neill was stationed overseas permanently.

Finally with order restored, the SGC began their exhaustive tests. The scientists were wracked with guilt, and worked tirelessly to try and reverse the aging effect. Enraged at key SGC personnel being once again compromised, the Pentagon sent their finest to help, but after four weeks of heart breaking research, it was decided the kids would need to grow up the old fashioned way. Arguments raged back and forth, and finally Sam made the call she prayed would solve their problems. Someone with the appropriate clearance needed to rear the rambunctious children with smatterings of their former lives running around their brains, and she could think of none one better than General O'Neill. Back at the Pentagon for under twenty-four hours, Jack had already succumbed to boredom. Sitting in his expensive leather chair while idly doodling, Jack eagerly took the call from his old 2IC, and staring into space, wondered if he was dreaming. Daniel? Mitchell? Kids? What was Carter on? Finally convinced someone wasn't going to pop out and scream, "Surprise, you're on candid camera," Jack O'Neill decided it was up to him to right this wrong. (While he was there, he figured he might as well shoot Felgar and Lee; save Hank the bother.)

Taking himself back to Cheyenne Mountain, ready to kick serious ass, General O'Neill was taken to the VIP room, and met his fate, face to face. Folding his arms and arching an eyebrow, Jack smiled slowly, a long forgotten stab of paternal protectiveness stirring. The kids stood before him, heads down, and tiny hands protectively shielding small backsides. Lifting their faces when prompted, both wore tear stained faces, and quivering bottom lips. Daniel and Cameron were a force of nature, and irritated by their non-stop pranks, Hank had assigned a marine he'd knick-named _Attila the hen_to watch over them. Captain Anna Pane was a brash New Yorker, and there was one way of doing things. Her way… or the high-way. Never fans of the marines, Danny and Cam foolishly chose the high-way, but all of their brilliant escape plans failed miserably. Instantly found and hauled back to the VIP room by the ear, the boys discovered a force of nature greater than themselves. Major Anna Pane did not take prisoners. When Jack finally walked in, the chastised little colonel and his archeologist instantly recognized a kindred spirit, and throwing accusing glares at Major Pane, launched themselves at the bemused General's legs. Wrapping themselves around Jack's once perfectly pressed pants; studiously wiping snotty noses against him, the boys searched his face for a sign of reprieve.

Jack smiled, and kneeling down, softly introduced himself. "I'm Jack," he said, fighting a traitorous laugh that threatened to escape. The boys were munchkins, but both showed the fighting spirit of the men they would become… again.

"I don't like Major Pane, Jack, she's a pain!" Daniel scowled, and folded his arms with outrage.

"We don' get to go anywhere! Cept to bed!" cried Cam, blinking wide eyed innocence to an amused Jack.

"Well, maybe if you two weren't little hellions, Major Pane may have been a little nicer!" Lowering his voice and winking conspiratorially, Jack added, "Or not!"

That's all it took. Cross little faces suddenly beamed with delight, and jostling for front position, Daniel Jackson and Cameron Mitchell giggled at Jack's grown-up audacity. Raising their arms to be picked up, the boys readily accepted their new parent, and became an instant, noisy, happy family. General O'Neill shrugged at the sour faced Major, still amazed at what transpired in the weeks he'd been away. But, for the first time in months he felt joy where gloom had been, and with a satisfied nod, Jack O'Neill felt very pleased to be alive. Edging pass the straight backed marine, Jack returned the salute and muttered, "That reminds me, better get the kids a dog."

Everyone was a winner. Hank felt both relief and elation with his old friend's easy acceptance of the boys. Sam felt the weight of the world lift off her shoulders, while Teal'c shrewdly wondered what the future would bring. The base personnel were just pleased to finally wave the small boys with their mischievous ways, home. Dr. McKenzie insisted on seeing them all before they left and quickly decided the only ones needing counseling was himself and possibly Major Pane. McKenzie's neat office would probably never be the same again, and glancing at a suspicious greenish smear on his wall, the crusty old doctor sighed softly. Discharging the new family with a hasty signature; the O'Neill's went home to shake Colorado Springs to its suburban core.

OoO

That had been almost a year ago, and a lot had happened to Jack since then. A family man again, he had all but retired, flying to Washington only when absolutely necessary. Wanting to give Danny and Cam a real sense of family, Jack had encouraged his friends to be active in their lives, and Sam and Teal'c were regular sitters. There was one other significant change. Sara O'Neill was in Jack's life again. Making the tentative call nine months ago, Jack had stammered like a teenager making a first date, but to his delight, Sara had met the kids and fallen head over heels in love with them. This time, Jack decided she deserved the truth, and watching her jaw fall open, Jack had given her his trade mark grin, throwing his hands in the air with mock confusion. "What could I do? Leave 'em for Hank to bring up? Sam? God forbid, Teal'c and his Jaffa training camp? Nope, it was up to me. I could sure use some help though, Carter and Lam spoil the beejesus outta of em, and I don't want them to turn into little brats." Grinning so much his teeth ached, Jack waited for Sara's reply.

"Brats? No, I can see why you don't want a couple of spoilt, combat trained, brats, Jack." Wild eyed, Sara had searched Danny and Cam's faces for signs of a colonel and his archeologist, but seeing only little boys wrestling and screaming with laughter, did what every good military wife does. Sara dusted her hands, and filed the intel away in the, 'Sure, okay, whatever you say, honey,' file. Gradually, Sara became a constant in the O'Neill family lives again.

Once Jack had decided to go to the cabin, he moved fast. Packing up the truck, finding, losing, and finally relocating errant children, Jack pulled out of his driveway with mixed feelings. The last time he'd driven to the cabin with canoes strapped to the roof racks, Charlie had been alive, and the memory caused Jack to wince. Looking over at the passenger's seat, he pictured Sara sitting there trying to calm down their excitable kid. She would have packed a picnic lunch, and every time Charlie got antsy, Sara would have calmly handed over a cookie, banana, or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. All Jack had to do was drive and not bitch and moan about peanut butter being liberally smeared on the truck's upholstery. With a quick glance in the rear vision mirror, he saw the grinning, over excited faces of his little family, and made the second snap decision of the day. He grabbed his cell, and made a call. Cruising by and collecting the unflappable Sara, Otter Tail County was about to make the acquaintance of a new summertime family, and it was every bit as rambunctious as the old one.

OoO

Tumbling out of the truck, warned to stay way from the water unless accompanied by Sara or Jack, Dan and Cam bounced around, red cheeked, and desperate to start having fun. The cabin was everything Sara had told them it would be, and dancing around Jack's legs, they begged to be taken, fishing, swimming, canoeing, kayaking, and bought an ice-cream. Looking at each other other and rolling their eyes, Jack and Sara hustled the boys inside, and with the smarts of vacationing parents everywhere, wisely committed to nothing.

OoO

Waking up bright and early, Danny and Cam scampered around in their pajamas and investigating every inch of their property, found a treasure to good to be true. A real live tree-house! Charlie's tree-house was almost derelict, but to Danny and Cam it was perfection. Nestled in the giant branches behind the cabin, its broken flag pole, and its lifting roof making it seem lost and abandoned, the boys saw only its magic, and squealed with delight. Munching on soggy toast, Jack came out to see what the noise was about, and with folded arms, watched the little boys dance excitedly underneath the tree desperate to figure out how to climb it. With a snort at Cammie's ambitious, Don Quixote like leaps into the air, Jack's memories of another excitable child caused him to sigh with regret. He never should have allowed the little tree-house to become derelict. It needed running repairs, lots, and lots of running repairs. Pushing aside his melancholy, he strode forward, and in a graceful motion, juggled Daniel on one hip, and brought Cammie close to his other. Fingers carding Cam's un-brushed, bed-hair, Jack told the boys stories of Captain Charlie and his gang of summer-time, gum-shoes. With his voice wavering, Jack pictured his brown-eyed child; comic book tucked under his arm, and suddenly found he couldn't find the right words to say. He figured coming back with Dan and Cam would be hard, and he'd given himself a stern talking to while loading up the truck, but mesmerized by the ripples on the pond, Jack wasn't sure if he could do it after all.

Cradling her coffee cup gently, Sara blew away the heat and listened quietly. Her heart pounding after seeing Jack falter, she knew she needed to help him. "C'mon, time to make sense of this all." Walking across and casually bumping his shoulder, Sara leant down and hoisted a silent Cam onto her hip. "Hey, peanut, watch'cha doing in your pj's still?" Groaning with the boy's unexpected weight, and poking his pot belly, Sara smiled, and looking across at Jack, calmly made her point.

"Jack, I think Charlie would have loved the idea of his little brothers playing in his tree-house. Whaddya say we all go into town after breakfast, and see about fixing it up." Laughing at Cam's whoop followed by his cheeky grin, Sara's laugh broke the tension. "First up, breakfast! What about we get Daddy to make his famous chocolate and banana pancakes?" Greedy and hungry, Cam threw his arms around her neck and drawing her into a hug, happily explained he could eat at least ten! "Ten? That a fact?" Smiling over Cammie's tousled hair, she met Jack's eyes, and asked softly, "Okay?" Her fingers gently entwining around Jack's, Sara's eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and added, "Time to leave the past where it belongs."

Inhaling softly, Jack's throat tightened as he stared at the earnest little faces watching him so intently. Finally he nodded, and with a shrug, said dryly, "I get that, Sara, it's just harder than I thought." Watching a duck crash land and skid to a halt on his pond, Jack smiled at the look of wonder on Daniel's face, and with his smile widening, knew Sara was right again. It was time for this new family to experience the joy of the cabin, and Jack figured Charlie would have approved of the two newest members of the Gum-shoe gang.

OoO

Otter Tail County had changed a lot in the past decade, and dumping Cam onto his instantly running feet, Jack rolled his eyes while snagging the little boy's collar. "Whoa, there tiger! What did we discuss about running off?" Taking Cam's sticky hand and ignoring the obligatory whine and constant tugging to be free, Jack and Sara, and their new family started for the stores door, and exchanging unsure glances, hoped for the best.

TBC…


	18. Chapter 18

OoO

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Weekend at the O'Neill's 01#.

Warnings None.

Feedback: Yes, please.

When I look at the faces of my kids their innocence takes my breath away. These two little boys are a force of nature, and with enthusiasm that exhausts me, whirl through life like a spinning top. Everything is exciting to them, and I can't help but wonder if I was ever this questioning or curious. I remember my folks telling people I drove them crazy, so maybe this is my just rewards. What goes around comes around.

It may not be easy being green, but trust me; neither is being a single dad to Heckle and Jeckle. Shaving this morning is a perfect example. White towel wrapped around his skinny little ass, face and hair smeared with mayonnaise, Cammie strolled in, and with a wink that involved his entire face, he asked to borrow a razor. Apparently he couldn't find his.

"Hey, how's it going buddy." He says, holding out the palm of his hand while waggling mayonnaise smeared fingers at me. "So, what about that Avalanche game, huh?"

This kid is going to drive me nuts. After whipping off the towel and dumping him into the shower, I washed off a small jar of mayo, while reminding him my name is daddy, not buddy. Cam naturally took this admonishment with good grace; kid hasn't got a bad tempered bone in his body. Wouldn't mind a sensible bone making an appearance every so often. I would ask why he wanted to shave this morning, but do I really want to know?

One little maniac down.

From the kitchen I hear the tell tale noise of clattering chaos. This I decide can not be good, and glancing at my watch, see it's not even gone seven. Going to be a long day I figure. Daniel's insistent voice floats across the air and I now I know for certain that it's not going to be good.

"Gosh! Daddy! Quick! Stuff from our pantry is all over the floor!" Daniel manages to make his voice sound suitably outraged, and if I didn't know better, I may have fallen for it. The pantry items clearly didn't want to stay stacked on the shelves, it infers, best you have a stern daddy talk with them.

Running into the kitchen, I take one look at my kid, and wonder why I bothered getting out of bed. I would have been safer hiding under the covers, and coming out in a decade or so. Taking a deep breath, I ask the pertinent questions first. There maybe a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.

"Daniel! Are you alright? What happened? Why is there ketchup all over my floor?" He shrugs, palms out open with a look of mystery on his freckled face.

"I was making coffee!" This he says with a look on his face that implies I am the village idiot. Then with the understatement of the year, he adds a little sadly, "I may have slipped."

Daniel is a very kind little boy, but he sometimes forgets the no climbing, no driving Daddy **nuts** rule as well. While his brother was deciding what shaving cream to use, Danny figured we could all use a coffee. To calm our nerves. Dragging a chair across the kitchen, climbing onto the bench, and scrambling into the pantry, my small archeologist put on foot onto the shelving, slipped, and took a tumble. This was always the most likely scenario; he's still a little clumsy. Sitting on his ass, covered in ketchup and flour, Daniel was next in the shower.

I still haven't shaved, and still haven't had my morning coffee, and it's only seven thirty. I should be mad I suppose, but the little knuckle-heads mean well, and I figure two baths in one day is punishment enough. Kitchen cleaned, children cleaned, and daddy cleaned, maybe things are looking up!

Okay, that's odd. What's that smell?

TBC…


	19. Chapter 19

Breakfast is a wild ride

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam

Title: Weekend at the O'Neill's 02#

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes please.

Another snapshot of their weekend.

At our house, breakfast can be the health hazard. The boys are nothing if not enthusiastic eaters, and it amazes me how they can cheerfully cram so much into their mouths and yet spill so much on the floor. I explain to them in that calm, rational, daddy voice how to actually avoid driving me to drink, but they look back at me with picture perfect innocence. Huh?

Yeah, right, well, I am nothing if not optimistic. Where's that bottle?

Cam takes no responsibility for the mess under his chair. With a decidedly shifty look on his face, he mumbles behind his hand its all down to the Cheerio monster. How his original parents didn't sell him to the San Diego zoo is a mystery. To add substance to his claim of monsters, Cam claws the air, and growls like a bear, spraying me with a fine spray of spit. Apparently the Cheerio monster reminds him of a slobbering, Smokey the Bear. Wild life not with standing, there is a perfectly good explanation why my floor resembles a train wreck. My little fighter pilot talks with his hands. Expansively and often. If he wants to make a point, and believe me, the kid has many, he waits until his spoon is laden, and then …bombs away. He's going to drive me nuts.

Danny, however, is truly bewildered with the pyramid of soggy corn under his chair. When I ask him what happened this time, he tells me he just doesn't know. He has no idea where they all came from. He's a cute kid when he's thinking; that little white mouse runs a marathon. Ducking under the table mumbling; he pops up all wide-eyed and suspicious, and tells me that he's on it. While I have Daniel I have hope.

Despite Daniel's on-going amazement, I have a theory as to why Colombo's chair is cereal central. Daniel loves to talk. **Really** loves to talk. Now, my little archeologist also loves to eat. Really, really likes to eat. See his conundrum? If he eats, he can't talk. So, he figures he can do both at the same time. I have explained this is disgusting and he is not to speak with his mouth full. Think of Smokey the Bear I implore. The only thing this achieves is a giggle from Cam and another spray of soggy circles of cereal across the table.

Yep, breakfast at the O'Neill's is not for the faint hearted. Well, time to go to the markets and shop. Again. Cheerios for some reason, tend to disappear. Maybe Smokey the Drooler can throw me a bone?

TBC…


	20. Chapter 20

Breakfast is a wild ride

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Weekend at the O'Neill's. 03#

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Another snapshot of a weekend with the boys. Daniel is Emily, Cheryl's youngest!

It's Saturday morning, and that means we need to go to Walmart. I have asked Cam to get changed twice now, and if I have to ask again, I swear he'll be walking around those aisles in his Finding Nemo pajamas. Rapping his head with my knuckle, I mention this, and his face flickers between mutiny, horror, and a hint of 'cool.' Going shopping with my small son is as peaceful as night maneuvers in a war zone, one false move and the enemy will overrun you. Cameron has a strong personality, and despite his easy charm, this kid likes his own way. Its just bad luck for my little fly-boy that I'm every bit as determined, and as I out-rank him, what I say goes.

Okay, he's changed into torn jeans, and has his t-shirt on back to front. Think he's making a point? Did I mention he has his sneakers on the wrong feet? It's not as though I didn't try to get Cam sat, trust me, I rang all the usual suspects. I've kicked around this world, and a few others long enough to know you can't win all the battles, so I pick mine carefully. Why drag the kid along kicking and screaming to a place he hates? All that can happen is he'll push his boundaries, and get his butt smacked. He'll be embarrassed, Danny will sulk in sympathy, and I'll feel like crap. But, sometimes we just have to suck it up, and this morning, Cameron has to play the game. We need groceries and that means Wallmart. Okay, if that bottom lip actually sticks out anymore he's going to trip over it. Daniel in contrast is beaming; he loves going anywhere. Kid smiles going to the can.

Cammie starts to wriggle the moment I pull into Walmart. He wants to get out of his car seat so he can make himself scarce. So not going to happen. Little kids have tunnel vision, I get that, it's the way their brains are wired, but on a busy Saturday morning he has to stick close. Harassed parents and jeep driving morons will kill you for a decent park here, and I'm not chasing this kid across a parking lot. The truck has kid locks installed, so he isn't going any where; it's just his way of showing me he's not happy. Oh for crying out loud, how did he get out of his seat belt? Kids a Harry Houdini. If I was counting he'd be on a two, and we haven't even started shopping. Give me strength.

Okay, time out, I need a battle plan. A quick but meaningful chat turns into chaos. I ask Cammie to repeat what will happen if he runs away from me and hides behind the dog food cans. He says he'll be taken away by the dog catcher. Ever hopeful, he tells me while he's there; he might as well pick out a puppy. This conversation has not gone well; Daniel is jumping up and down yelling it's not fair and that he wants to be taken to the pound as well. Did I mention night maneuvers? I must have yelled, because mommies are glaring, and daddies are nodding in silent sympathy. Maybe the pound, they infer, isn't such a bad option.

Daniel loves to talk, have I mentioned this? He hasn't taken a breath for five minutes and doesn't look likely too. If banks have branches why aren't they called trees? How come Sam's mail doesn't come as quick as an email? They both have mail in it. I tell him the average first grader asks five hundred questions per day. It's early. Pace yourself.

The entire population of Colorado Springs has obviously decided to shop for groceries the exact moment we walk through the doors. There are people everywhere, and I can feel Cam's body stiffen, and Danny's grip on my fingers tighten. The way I see it I have two options here. One, I can insist on dragging my kids through the aisles knowing Cam will play up, and Danny's chattering will get on my nerves. Two, I can admit defeat, grab an ice cream, and sit in the sunshine with my kids.

Easy choice.

TBC….


	21. Chapter 21

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Weekend at the O'Neill's 04#

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes please.

**The story is based on the real life adventures of the small one. Emily. I make Cheryl tell me everything this kid does, and it always makes me laugh. All the best lines are hers.**

Right, lunch time. No shopping done, but that's okay, got happy kids. Okay, speaking of happy kids, where are the little farts? Normally one would be under my feet causing a diversion while the other infiltrated the pantry demanding food. What's that noise? Ah, found one child. Mm, Daniel is not happy. Okay, looks like he lost a buck but found a dime. What's in his hand? Huh-huh, its Eamon, and he's seen better days.

Danny has this purple, ratty rabbit called Eamon. Don't ask why he's called Eamon, I don't know. What I do know is that he loves the thing to death. There in lies the problem. He obsesses a little about his toys, and Cammie loves to wind him up. If I interfere, it looks like I'm playing favorites. Truth? Both drive me equally nuts! Love em to bits.

Anyway, after our spectacular failure at Walmart we have an incident. Tears are plentiful and the kids aren't happy either. Eamon has lost an ear. Lost is probably too finer a point, maybe Eamon has been the victim of purple ratty rabbit violence. I suspect it was attempted rabbit-icide, and I should round up the usual suspects, but Cam isn't talking.

Ah-huh. Course he isn't. He will though, I am good at interrogating little boys who tell me whoppers.

Danny's eyes are full of tears, and sitting his ass on the floor, he pummels my knee, just in case I missed the tell tale signs he's upset. Danny doesn't always think much of my intellect when it comes to the matter of his toys. In his hand is Eamon, minus a purple, ratty, rabbit ear. By the time I wrestle the toy from him, it's covered in snot, tears, and cookie. Danny tells me force feeding a chocolate chip cookie into its mouth will some how make the ear grow back. Danny is a genius, right? Maybe the brain cells multiple as he gets older.

Predictably the ear hasn't grown back and doesn't look as though it will any time soon. I hug Danny, ratty rabbit and all. Poor kid, he's heart broken. Cammie is looking at serious corner time here. Still, I haven't any hard evidence yet, so I'll give the little fart the benefit of the doubt. For the time being.

Danny is never down for long. Drying his tears, rubbing his nose across my once white t-shirt, he decides on a plan. He tells me he's going to perform life saving surgery on the ratty rabbit. I mentioned, gently as possible, it's a stuffed toy, and why? He looks me in the eye, and if look could kill I'd be pushing up daisies. That's if I had any left after last weekends gardening effort by Cam. Danny informs me that Eamon is his best-est friend ever! He punctuates this with a head butt to my chin.

Speaking of the garden vandal, Cammie is slinking down the hall. That is one shifty looking kid. Mm, I take it by the pout he is unhappy with being bumped for a one eared toy. Call me crazy, but this disaster has that kid's finger prints all over it. I'll be having a long chat with him very soon; knows more about this ear loss than he's letting on.

Okay, mangled toys aside, I need to get groceries, and Sara has dropped in. Good, she'll mind the kids, and keep Danny from sterilizing the cutlery and using the kitchen table as an operating table. House is so going to be banned in the O'Neill household as from today. This is new, for some obscure reason known only to my ex-wife; she has a sewing kit in her car. I refrain from asking why. With Sara on the case though, I figure all will be well.

I leave them chatting about matters of great importance, which color cotton to use. Cammie is still noticeable by his absence. Mm…

Giving Walmart the wide berth, I use the markets close to our house, and walking around them peacefully, a miraculous thing happens. Halleluiah, brother. Everything happens to he who waits. I find Eamon! Well, not our Eamon, but a pretty close version of it. Now, I'm on a winner here! It's purple, but neither ratty nor ear challenged, and for a buck and a half, I figure it's a steal. I head home to tell the ratty rabbits daddy the good news. I am a hunter and gatherer no doubt about it.

Danny is delighted! His whole face beams! Oiy, this kid's smile is like a Christmas tree, it lights up the whole damn room! Then, he does something that has me shaking my head. He grabs the new and more complete version of Eamon, and yanking its ear, says with a delighted if not kinda scary voice.

"Look, Eamon! Daddy has found you an organ donor."

I look.

Sara chokes.

Cammie, the toy rabbit assassin, says, "Cool" I suspect he wishes he thought of this.

"Rriight," Daniel, I say, trying not to laugh my ass off, "you sure that's what you want?" It's a tough call for Eamon the second, I mean he's only been in the house for less than three minutes and already he's chopped liver. Even for us, it's a new record.

Danny ignores me, and he's got that scary, 'I can solve this,' look on his face. Riigghtt, he's got the scissors and is hacking of the new rabbit's ear. Talk about blood thirsty. Okay, please, now he's got Sara's needle and thread, and is sewing the transplanted organ onto Eamon. It's a Frankenstein effort, and Sara has tears running down her face. She offers to fix the surgery, and Danny happily accepts. He's a care and share type of butcher.

He is smiling while he tosses the unlikely, buck and a half, organ donor into the toy box. God, remind me not to let this kid pick my nursing home! Cammie is looking like Mother Teresa here, remind me to plant more flowers. Sara is now almost helpless with laughter. Fat lot of help she's turning out to be.

"Its okay, "Danny announces to the new, but horribly damaged toy, "You can stay. I can keep you for body parts."

I ask you.

You know, it s the animated conversation between Danny and the rabbits that gets me the most. Sara is snorting while she is unpicking Dr Frankenstein's efforts. Eamon's new ear is sewn on backwards and is kinda... lopsided, but Danny doesn't care. The kid is dancing around Sara's feet offering all kinds of useful advice. Help me; I am raising a Martha Stewart wannabe.

Good. Everything seems to be claming down here. Danny is happy with his Franken-rabbit-stein; all that's left now is to find the elusive Cameron. He and I are going to have words. The little vandal knows what happened to Eamon, I'm sure of it! That can wait a bit though, I think a cold beer, and a sandwich with Sara and the kids is a plan. It's a beautiful day, and if you ignore the lack of flowers in the flower bed, the backyard is a good as place as any.

TBC…


	22. Chapter 22

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan and Cam: Weekend at the O'Neill's

Title: Rabbit and the Yo-Yo. 05#

Warnings: None.

~Another snapshot in the busy weekend of the family O'Neill.~

Well, Sara's gone home, and Danny has both ratty rabbits in tow. Apparently he has had a change of heart, and Eamon the second is allowed to be loved after all. Scratching its one-eared head, Danny tells it that the ear-ectomy was a mistake. He doesn't know what came over him; it must have been the shock. With his eyes full of tears, he makes extravagant promises. Naturally I figure in all of them. Apparently as soon as I find another purple rabbit, he and Sara will perform reconstructive surgery. Daddy, he says with the unwavering confidence of the young, will not rest until he has found another donor.

Wanna bet.

Okay, that thought keeps Ben Casey happy, if not somewhat deluded, but that leaves one more loose string to tie. The perp. Cameron.

Interestingly enough, the little fart has made himself scarce. There's a shocker. Guess he realizes that Sword of Damocles is swinging back and forth with his name, rank, and serial number all over it. Cam's a good natured kid, don't get me wrong, but he's impulsive. Day late and a dollar short is my little fly boy when it comes to good sense. Still, every action has a consequence and good or bad, the kids have to learn this.

Do I make a big deal out of this? It's Saturday and that means movie night. Oy. We normally rent a video, make popcorn, and watch a movie together. Of course their idea of a movie and my idea differ. Tonight we have Alvin and the Chipmunks. If I knew where the producer of this thing lived I'd shoot him. If I dust the seat of Cam's pants and send him to bed early, he'll miss out, but what he did to his brother was cruel. He knows full well the ratty, purple rabbit is Danny's favorite toy, so why did he do it?

Right, standing here drinking coffee and listening to the ramblings of young isn't going to answer that question, so guess I'd better make a stand. Never know, there maybe a perfectly good reason.

I call out to Cammie and he slinks in, blue eyes wide as saucers, and bottom lip trembling. He so knows he's in trouble, but to be fair, he looks very sorry. Hello, he's got his Coca-Cola yo-yo in his hand, the question is why? Bribe? Even Cam wouldn't be that clueless!

Okay, this is different. He's telling Danny how sorry he is, and to cut the string on his yo-yo as pay back. A tear running down his face, Cam looks absolutely miserable. Now, you have to understand, he saved his pocket money for six months to buy this toy, and I guess to him, it's every bit as precious as the purple rabbit. Two wrongs don't make a right though, and I'm interested in what Danny will do.

And there you go; he's going to cut the string. So much for Daniel Jackson, peaceful explorer, this is more Daniel Jackson, slayer of yo-yos. Well, as interesting as this insight into my children's heads is, its time I put a stop to it. I know Danny's angry with Cam, he has every right to be, but trial and retribution isn't going to happen in this house. Nope, its time we all sat down for a family discussion. Then I'll decide what to do with my little freckled faced vandal.

Can't believe Danny was going to cut the string! So not letting this kid pick my retirement home!

TBC…


	23. Chapter 23

Author: Amberfly

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam: Weekend at the O'Neill's

Title: To Snip or Not to Snip. 05#

Category: Kidfic

Warnings: None

Feedback: Yes, please.

Okay, let's just say the yo-yo incident is part of our lives I'd rather forget. You know, I didn't think the kid would do it. I honestly thought Danny would see the shattered look on his brother's face, wrestle with his conscience, and let the good guy in there win.

Like hell he did. Jiminy cricket is **so** not singing in Dr Jackson's little twisted mind.

We had the family discussion around the kitchen table. A forum if you will. I chaired the meeting because I'm the daddy, and what I say goes. Never said it was a democracy. Daniel sat glowering on one side of me, and Cam sat sniveling while clutching his Coco-Cola yo-yo on the other.

Naturally, Eamon the ratty, purple rabbit, sat centre stage, propped up by the fruit bowl. Yep, Franken-rabbit was the star of the show. Every time Cam's pleading got to Danny, he'd look across at Eamon, remember seeing his ear-ectomy, and hardened his heart.

We discussed options.

Now, I could deal with Cameron, and that meant he'd miss out munching on hot buttered pop corn, while watching the new Alvin and the Chipmunks video. Tough call. The other option was ruff justice. Daniel would deal with Cam as he saw fit. Cam preferred this; the kid will do anything to avoid missing any action, and so he threw himself at Danny's mercy.

Danny pretended to give Cam's punishment serious consideration. He sighed. He tapped his finger on his chin. He picked up Eamon and studied the reconstructive surgery. He looked at Cameron and asked to see the yo-yo. Just to make sure the string wasn't already frayed, and therefore on its way out. Smart kid, Cameron can be a slippery sucker.

Cameron however, wisely declined. Why give the enemy the upper hand? My little Lt Colonel has a scary amount of tactics racing around that head of his. Play it cool and see what happens, you never know, reinforcements maybe coming over the hill anytime. Reinforcement's means Sara or Carter. Cam has these smart, tough women eating out of his hand. They look at him and giggle. Yep, Cam's easy southern charm works a treat. Unfortunately for him, I am a Yankee, and therefore immune. I told him no one was coming over, and the look of…_How did you know that's what I was thinking! _on his facewas priceless.

What? You think they make just anyone a general? I'm so far ahead of this kid we are in different time zones.

Anyway, Daniel had several questions to ask before he gave me his decision. Firstly the little ghoul wanted to know that if he cut the yo-yo string, would Cammie would still get his bottom smacked, miss the movie, and have to stay home on family day. I ask you, the kid hacked of a ratty toy's ear, he didn't declare war on Disney Land! When I told Daniel to can it, make up his damn mind and spit it out already, he looked a little crestfallen. He wanted his brother to suffer, and had no intention of wrapping it up quicker than he had to.

Putting on another pot of coffee, I gave him the look. This is guaranteed to get Daniel to shake his ass. Big or small, Danny knows when I have reached the end of my famous patience. I can become a little snippy.

Cameron listened to our exchange with a look of the condemned on his face. Either way, the kid knew he was due a bad day. One of us was still going to be his judge, jury, and executioner. Now, my patience officially expired, and I threatened them both with dire consequences. Either Daniel makes up his mind, Cameron confesses as to why he did what he did, or it's an early bedtime for them both. This way, not only do I get to wriggle out of listening to those maniac rodents screeching, I get to hire a movie I want. I'm thinking Rambo.

Naturally the thought of no pop-corn stirred Daniel into action, and he made his decision. Jumping down from his chair and marching over to the kitchen draw, he grabbed the scissors. Yep, Cam's yo-yo was toast. With a quick snip, the yo-yo string went to yo-yo string heaven. Knots and all. I didn't like to mention anything, but it wasn't hard to figure Cam's motives. The string had so many knots in it, it probably dropped no more than an inch. Did I mention he can be a slippery little sucker?

Danny remarked that new strings cost a dollar. Cammie, he gloated, was officially one dollar short of having one dollar. He on the other hand, had five dollars from his birthday money left. He was prepared to negotiate. There you have it, mess with an archeologist, and you dig up a whole lot of trouble.

Cammie took it well though; he sniffed, looked up at me, and asked to borrow a dollar. After I declined, he ran his nose under his sleeve, and with all the dignity he could muster with snot all over his face, took the yo-yo, cut string and all, and climbed the stairs. He told me he thought he may need a nap, he had a headache, and could I please not sneeze or burp loudly. If I had to, would I mind going outside, especially if a fart was also on the cards.

Sneezing? Burping? Farting? I find it better if I don't ask.

Later, while Danny was playing with the two Eamons, I wandered upstairs to offer Cam a cuddle and a chance to explain the whole attempted rabbit-icide. Cam's a sweet kid, and there had to have been a reason.

Well, we had the talk, and apparently there was not. Reason, I mean, apparently there was no reason. He just doesn't like Eamon. Far as I can tell, the scissors were there, the rabbit was there, and he was there. One-two-three-hack!

I told him that wasn't actually good enough, and if he felt the need to attack another toy, there'd be trouble. He nodded, and promised if he felt the urge to dismember anything else, he'd talk to me first. He thanked for not burping, farting, or sneezing loudly, and could he please come out now.

I agreed. After all, this is the one picking my retirement home.

TBC…


	24. Chapter 24

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam- Weekend at the O'Neill's 08#

Title: **Boo**!

Category: Kidfic

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Its past twenty one hundred hours and the kids are finally asleep. It's been a long day, and tomorrow is family day so another… long day. Why do I do this too myself?

The movie, Alvin and the Chipmunks, was hideous, and I'm pretty sure what is left of my brain is bleeding. I ask you, why do they have to scream like that? Worse damn thing I've ever had to sit through. Finding Nemo, Ice Age, Toy Story, hey, they were good, but this one? Give me strength.

Had to laugh at the not so subtle point scoring the kids engaged in. Danny crooned to Frank-en-rabbit, while Cammie consoled his string-challenged yo-yo. Danny is enjoying this yo-yo thing way too much for my liking, but its not often he scores over his brother, so what the hell. Cam is a little nervous about the whole naughty and nice thing he has going with Santa. He confided to me in a whisper so loud the Asgard probably heard that Santa doesn't need to know about the whole rabbit attack thing. Whispering behind my hand also, to keep in character as one of the elves, I assured him that Santa would let this pass, providing no more toys were attacked in the name of boredom. My little Colonel isn't so sure though, I may not have the clout he first thought it would seem. He has decided to discuss this with Sam, she has clout to spare. Daniel helpfully agreed.

Oiy.

Now, I supervised their bath, supervised teeth cleaning, and redirected the kids to the bathroom twice. If I live to be one hundred, I'll never understand how Cammie can spread pink and blue striped toothpaste all over the wall. How does he do it? I mean, I am right there next to him for Chrissakes! The fact bubbles float down the hallway is another mystery, and if I have to tread in Daniel's pee one more time, my legendary sense of humor will expire. Finally, I hustled them into bed, turned off their lights, and came downstairs to have my coffee and snack in peace.

Yeah…like that WAS ever going to happen.

First Danny sidled down the stairs.

"Did I pee, Daddy?"

For the love of Mike, only about three times. I took him again anyway; kids and bladders mean work and laundry for me. Naturally, he managed to get more on the floor than in the bowl, but at least I didn't get sprayed. Carried him back up the stairs, changed pajama bottoms, and kissed him goodnight. I threw away my cold coffee and binned my disgusting looking snack; the microwave has never been the same since Cameron dried his sneakers in it.

Made new snack, avoided the microwave, and put on more coffee.

Down came Cam.

"Did I wash my hands, Daddy? Don't want to die of the bluetonic plague!"

Fair call I figured, tricky thing that bluetonic plague. I washed tiny hands, took to bathroom, and put chatterbox little fly-boy back to bed with dire warnings what will happen if he got out again. That little boy can seriously talk, pity I don't understand half of what he says.

I wondered and not for the first time whether neat whiskey is considered a snack.

I planted my butt in my chair, switched on the game, and was just about to take a bite of my spaghetti and meatball sandwich when all hell broke loose. My kid's screams are louder than those damn chipmunks could ever hope to achieve, and I must have got up those stairs in record time. They ambushed me at the top, and clinging to my leg, talked over each other while telling me we have a ghost in the house. This is apparently all my fault, and what kind of daddy am I to have allowed this! Teal'c, Danny informs me, wouldn't tolerate this, and neither would Sam. Cammie then demanded I get my ass in gear and shoot the ghost, or court martial it at the very least. Danny is somewhat kinder, and suggested I throw it in the brig for a couple of millenniums, and starve it to death. Now, why I would possibly out rank Casper the ratty rabbit's spirit is beyond me, it sure wasn't in any officer training I went to. Carter gets Santa, Teal'c gets undying respect, and I get stuck with Frankenstein the ghost. I repeat, why me?

Apparently, the ghost of the purple, one-eared, ratty rabbit is roaming my house. I mentioned considering it's only a stuffed toy, that would be a stretch, but my ghostly observations went down badly. Eamon the second is most unhappy with the whole ear-ectomy debacle, and with killer fangs, fully intends to haunt Cameron's room forever. Good luck with that, it'll be suffocated by all the crap in there, that's if it doesn't die from the bluetonic plague. If it was actually alive I guess. Crap, anyway, I finally managed to peel off snot infested boys from my legs, and got to the bottom of their latest drama. It's a doozy. While I was making my snack, Danny snuck into Cam's room, despite the fact I said no sneaking into each others room. I open my mouth just to hear my jaws flap in the wind as my granny used to say. Anyway, I'll address that little bit of insubordination later, so, taking his Spiderman torch, putting it under his chin; Danny proceeded to tell a whopper of a ghost story to his gullible brother.

Gotta hand it to Daniel, when he wants vengeance, he goes all out.

As with all plans of domination and vengeance, there's always a glitch. The ghoul formerly known as Danny believed every word that tumbled out of his mouth, so instead of terrorizing his brother in triumph, he scared himself witless. Danny so needs help with the whole ghost telling bit, I'll have to fill him one day. The old tree outside the window scratched on the window and the rest is history. Hysterical little nitwits.

With no hope of them settling in their own beds, I transferred them to mine. So should have had that whiskey as a snack, would have gone a long way to deadening the pain of the snoring. That retirement home is looking better everyday!

TBC…


	25. Chapter 25

Author: Amberfly.

Series: Dan and Cam. Weekend at the O'Neill's.

Title: Up and at em!

Category: General.

Warnings: None

Feedback: Yes, please.

Thanks to Annie…

By a stroke of good fortune, the little knuckleheads survived the haunting of Eamon. It was touch and go there, and according to Cameron, we may not be here today, eating Cheerio's and slurping chocolate milk if not for his craftiness. How did the small one fight off the ghostly apparition floating around my room? He farted. Yep, he figured this would do the trick. Oh, it gets better, folks! Ghosts, he assured me, don't like bad smells. Yes, well, they're not the only ones, trust me. I wondered briefly about mentioning a ghost would struggle to gag, but why feed his craziness at zero one hundred hours? I took the ghostbuster back into his room, followed by his itchy, half asleep brother, and we all got some sleep. Eamon number one lies in the comfort of first class, but Eamon number two is now relegated to the toy chest. Eamon the ghost is no doubt hovering like the bad smell that he is.

We all woke up late, and sat around in our pajamas watching cartoons and scratching our collective butts. Daniel more so than others! Sundays are the one day when I don't care how long we stay relaxing, but unfortunately, the laundry still needs to be done. Give it an inch and those socks and boxers will march down the hallway and out the door. Mrs. Grabowski, our part-time housekeeper, dropped by with a fruit cake, and that's when Danny had his latest brilliant idea.

Let me explain.

Yesterday was a typical warm June day, and the kids were fascinated by the zipping, zooming little birds hunting for insects. I think they are swallows, and watching them hunt should have been a nudge for me to use bug repellant, but we were too busy enjoying their antics. I should have known better I guess. Even after a year, there's a lot I need to learn, and it reinforces to me again what a great mom Sara was.

The birds finally flew away to find more fertile feeding places, and while I watered the yard, the kids rolled around on the grass playing. They got a little burned, and ended up being bit by whatever the hell lives in Colorado Springs buffalo grass. The swallows left their dessert behind apparently. By the time they were ready for bed, Danny and Cam were covered in tiny red bites. Cammie is okay, slap some calamine lotion on him and he is fine and dandy. Why does --no feeling, no sense-- come to mind? Daniel is a different matter, he is systematically driven nuts by insect bites. He won't leave them alone, and despite washing the bites with soap and water, they always end up infected and sore. I dabbed him with calamine lotion as well before I put him back to bed, all pink and sticky.

I didn't give it another thought until the next morning when he woke up grumpy, and clearly bothered by the bites. I checked him out, and I have to admit he's unhappy with good reason; kid is a polka dot disaster. They say some blood types attract mosquitoes more than others, and Danny is definitely one of the favored. Of course he is. Dr. Jackson's track record is impressive. He had been chased by an unas, shot at by snakes, and stalked by a nut job princess, so why am I not surprised. Chasing him around the kitchen to dab on the loathed calamine lotion, the doorbell rang just as I was about to duct tape his hands to his head.

"Mrs. Grabowski! Come in!" I am nothing if not polite to the woman who fights our dust bunnies and kills breeding microbes. Telling ya, if we were invaded by hostiles, she'd be he one to hide behind! Woman is an armory of toxic cleaning fluids.

"General O'Neill, I made the children cake! It's their favorite! It's cake!"

Yep, I have Jack Benny as a house keeper.

I made Mrs. Grabowski her cup of green tea, and she watched Danny scratch and fidget while stirring in her five sugars. She inspected his arm, checked out his belly, but wisely declined the offer of a bird's eye view of his bitten butt. Clucking her tongue, she uttered those innocent words. That's all, just a throw away comment! It all seemed so harmless at the time. What was I thinking! This is _Daniel_! I should know better, and I deserve what I got really.

"I'd rinse those bites in vinegar," she said eating most of the cake she brought, "trust me; General, it'll stop those suckers itching in no time."

See? How was I to know? What in those words said turn yourself into pickled cabbage? I stand accused and take the fifth. Mrs. Grabowski distracted me by insisting on helping me with some laundry, and this is what I figure happened. I'm not positive mind you, Daniel isn't talking. The little fart decided Mrs. Grabowski's remedy was foolproof, after all anyone who can made cupcakes has to be an Einstein. Why? Who knows, Daniel's mind works in strange ways. He knew I'd be less than impressed, so he waited until I was in the utility room, and scampered into the bathroom with his stolen pint of vinegar. With great stealth, not to mention stupidity, he proceeded to lock the door, and dump the vinegar into the tub. See any holes in this theory? Good. There he sat, plastic shower cap on head, pickling away until I went looking for him. Normally I have him underfoot, firing away as many questions as he can before forced to take breath. I'm used to this, and I listen to about one tenth before I snap and tell him to stop with the jabber. Fifteen minutes and no Daniel? Well, let's just say alarms bells rang. So, I went lookin'.

Knocking on the locked bathroom door, my bull-shit-meter was on overdrive.

"Daniel?"

"G'way, Daddy! I'm taking a leak!"

"Daniel? The can is next door."

"Huh? Oh! G'way, Daddy, I'm shaving!"

"Open the damn door."

There he was, butt naked, plastic shower cap on his head, demanding to know why a guy can't take a bath in peace. Gotta love his style.

Daniel is currently slumped on his chair, shattered, and smelling like New York bum in the middle of July. Predictably, his sensitive skin didn't like the whole pickling thing, and his eyes remind me of mine after a night on the happy juice. Ah, bloodshot… I remember those days well. Mrs. Graboswki was horrified, and immediately flew into grandmotherly overdrive. She insisted on calling her married daughter's next door neighbors' nephew. He's a med student, first year! Kill me now; while we have her family, we have hope.

I finally got my loose-lipped housekeeper out of the door, wringing her hands, and promising to speak to her other daughter's chiropractor. That should be helpful.

Cameron is beside himself, he wants to stink like Danny. This is why I drink.

TBC…


	26. Chapter 26

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Larry and Lenny. Part 1

Category: General.

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes, please.

_**Again, this story is based on Cheryl's youngest child, Emily. Any funny line in this is probably there's! **_

Don't think we'll take family shots of the vinegar caper of '08. I ended up taking Danny to see Carolyn, his skin just didn't like that vinegar wash, and of course, he wouldn't stop rubbing at his eyes. The good doctor restrained from laughing, eye rolling, or ringing Mrs. Graboswki and giving her a mouthful, which is just as well, Carolyn would have been safer scrambling the marines. It's all good; she gave me a script for some ointment, so Danny is well on the road to recovery.

While my little archeologist lay on the sofa, the ratty rabbits clutched to his scratchy chest, Cammie had been very busy. While Daniel tends, and I do stress, _tends_, to be more conservative in his actions, Cameron has that Type A personality. He's a born leader, and with a very active imagination, gets into God awful mischief. So, while I was tending to my pickled onion, Cam found a disturbing sight.

Let me explain.

Our next door neighbor, Bob, has a year old chocolate Labrador pup named Larry. Well, Bob took his kid to check out colleges, and asked if my kids would like to have Larry come stay for the week. The kittens, Mogs and Tiggah, naturally saw this as an invasion, an incursion if you will, and stalked the poor puppy mercilessly. Bob growls, kittens hiss, and the kids scream for me to broker a peace. When Bob the dentist gets back I'm gonna shoot him.

Cam loves the puppy, but is well aware he's not to let Larry inside, but somehow he always manages to forget. Larry is a just a pup, all over sized paws and no grace, so once he hits the floor boards its hard for him to do anything but skitter through my kitchen. Ergo **why the dog is banned from coming inside the house**. Cam yelled out that Larry pushed past him, and the usual chaos erupted. I wanted to spend time with Danny, smother him with the ointment, so I took decisive action. I threw the freckled faced kid, the half witted dog, and two saber toothed tigers outside and slammed the back screen. The sound of peace was instantaneous. My Momma didn't raise no fool.

So, while Daniel and I were once again discussing duct taping his hands to his head, Cameron began his adventure into the world of the grief stricken mourner. Funnily enough, I didn't notice he had this sensitivity when he hacked off the purple Ratty Rabbits ear, but that's another matter. Cam came huffin' and puffin' through the back door and demanded I move my ass and deal with the assassin known as Mogliana. Charge her with a crime, he demanded, any crime as long as it means she's in the dog house. In Cam's hand were the remains of a tiny lizard. A slightly chewed around the edges lizard, called Lenny. More like Lenny the Late I remarked conversationally, more interested in taking the thing from my kid and disinfecting his hands. My observations, while factual, did not go down well.

Cammie was clearly very upset, but what the heck, Moggsie is a cat! Cats hunt, end of story. I tried to explain this but he wasn't having a bar of it. Mogs, he sniffed, as I wrestled the poor creature from his hands, is very naughty, and I need to take her into the spare room and smack her butt. Finding and placing the lizard into a one of the kid's old sneaker boxes, I gave him the look. The spare room, I explained, is designated for small boys who can't do as they are told, and not for the house hold pets. He disagreed, and we argued some more.

Anyway, the day proceeded to grow odder by the moment. I told him I'd bury the lizard, and he shook his head, mop of shaggy hair bouncing in his eyes.

"Nope, Lenny hasta ta have a proper fu'eral!"

"Okay, we'll bury Lenny under the old tree."

He considers this carefully, and this should have been my first clue that it was all going to end in chaos. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he looks up at me and says, "I'll ring Sara and Teal'c! Maybe Sara will smack Danny's stoopid kitten!"

Okay, the invited mourners promised to come, suitably attired, and agreed to stay for lunch. I decided not to mention to the kids the big game was on later that day, so it was always going to be a short and sweet… drop the box in the ground and run, kind of service. Lenny would understand, I told Sara, as she waggled her eyebrows at me, he loved hockey!

Well, the first thing to go wrong was the shroud Cammie used for poor Lenny. Sara came all dressed up, and taking her coat and scarf, I dumped them on the sofa while I got her a drink. What better shroud for poor Lenny, the lizard Daniel has _never_ set eyes on before, than Sara's expensive silk scarf? Double dang. Who is this Dior anyway?

So, the scarf was taken, without permission naturally, and used to wrap the mortal remains of the tiny, chewed lizard. Sara sighed, and told the kids that she didn't really want it back after the funeral. I am sure your daddy will replace it with another one, she explained, glaring daggers at me. Okay, this is my fault, _how_? Sara is a good sport, but I am not quite so forgiving. The kids and I will have a long talk about what constitutes taking things without asking means a little later. Maniacs, going to cost me a fortune. Sara wants the new scarf, followed by a movie, and then dinner somewhere nice. She gets to pick the scarf; the movie and the restaurant, I get to go along and not complain.

Anyway, all proper burials need music according to Daniel, the family's professional funeral director, and he drags my portable CD player out, once again forgetting to ask permission. Cam decides it's too heavy for him, and tries takes it from him. The professional mourners forget themselves and fight, meaning the CD player drops on the grass. Clutching Celine Dion CD in his hand, Cammie pushes Daniel and they roll around yelling and laying blame. I pick em up, dust them off, and tell them they are now on a two. Sara demands to know why I have a Celine Dion CD in the first place. I decline to answer.

Tears dried, apologies given and accepted, the funeral begins. The _My Heart Will Go On CD _didn't survive the boys and is now horribly scratched. Every time the laser comes to another scratch, it jumps and stammers. This adds to the over all ambience no end.

Cameron stands, hand over his heart, and sniffs. Daniel, hands clutched behind his back, looks suitably somber. Teal'c raises an eyebrow at me, no doubt wondering how he ever allowed himself to be talked into this, and Sara is struggling not to laugh. I say a few words over the grave, after I dug the grave of course, and send Lenny on his spiritual way. The kids are satisfied with my performance, Cameron stands, hand over his heart, and sniffs. Daniel, hands clutched behind his back, looks suitably somber. Teal'c raises an eyebrow at me, no doubt wondering how he ever allowed himself to be talked into this, and Sara is struggling not to laugh. I say a few words over the grave, after I dug the grave of course, and send Lenny on his spiritual way. The kids are satisfied with my performance, and Daniel takes me aside to discuss something man-to man. He whispers that because of the trauma Cam has suffered, will I forget they are officially on the dreaded two? This, he explains solemnly, is the right thing to do. Will I consider it? As an act of true kindness and sensitivity to the grief stricken child and his kindly brother, Daniel.

I declined, but I did thank the kindly brother for his…kindness.

OoO

I should have known better, I've had dogs all my life, and when the shoebox was buried, not everyone respected the gravesite. We'd hadn't been inside for thirty minutes before all hell let loose. Larry the Lab disgraced himself once again, and somehow, I was held responsible.

TBC…


	27. Chapter 27

Author: Amberfly:

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Larry and Lenny…02

Warnings: None, other than Dan and Cam.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Well, Larry the chocolate brown Labrador blew it. The boys were his greatest fans, but when the puppy sprawled on my back step chewing the remains of poor Lenny, they were horrified. Can not _believe_ how high Dan and Cam screamed, poor dog hit the ground running and is still hiding behind his kennel. With his snack.

To be fair to the pup, it was Mogs who hunted poor Lenny. Remember, I told Cam, patting his shaggy head; it was Tiggah who battered the lizard around the kitchen, not Larry. He just was opportunistic, and finding the shoe box come gravesite, finished off the job. So to speak. Best we move on I say, looking at the new flat screen TV in the family room.

My pep talk, however, falls sadly flat, and Cam begins to cry for Lenny again. _Oiy._ Daniel is glaring at me; he thinks my choice of shoe box/coffin leaves a lot to be desired, and I admit it, but I just don't particularly care. It's a lizard for chrissakes, the garden is full of em, lucky I didn't flush it down the can. Anyway, Cam is not a happy camper, and Daniel is muttering the legalities of emancipation of minors.

If we are to have any peace, Lenny the back yard lizard is going to need a re-burial. This time however, Sara's insists without Celine Dion screeching for three minutes without taking a breath. I thinking she's not a fan. A reburial for Lenny, she snippily informs me requires Lenny, and this means I have to rescue the lizard from Larry. I'm thinking not much left to rescue.

I whistle and Larry slinks over, and looking up, promptly vomits his lizard lunch at my feet. I ask you? What have I done to deserve this? How bad could I have been in another life? Kid's scream, Sara squeaks, Teal'c shakes his head and leaves me to it. Larry? He wags his tail, and eats it all up again.

I am so going to shoot Bob the dentist.

TBC…


	28. Chapter 28

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Funny Thing Happened…

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes please.

**Cheryl's kid strikes again!**

The day got better I guess; least the kids finally forgave Larry… the grave robbing Labrador. Cam can be a little impetuous, and wasn't thrilled with the desecration of Lenny the dearly beloved lizard's grave site, and chased Larry around the yard yelling "You is sooo _gonna git it_." Daniel was following him begging him to shut up and stop drawing attention to them all. The kindly brother takes being close to a time out very seriously.

Eventually I carted Cam inside, tactfully reminding him that _he_ was mighty close to _gitting it_. He decided to let the incident drop. Sara confessed that the kindly brother had been behind me glaring ferociously and making cut throat signals to his clueless brother. Cam finally must have bought a clue because they both scampered upstairs well away from me and the dreaded number three. I figure this time around the merry go-round of life, Daniel is going to have a much better sense of preservation.

Larry slunk away to take a well earned nap under the shrubs, and Sara and I decided to take a chance on a family lunch at Giuseppe's _not_ turning into a circus. We are nothing if not wildly optimistic. It's not that the kids misbehave because they are brats, far from it, they are terrific kids, it's just that things happen to them. Things they just can't for the _life of them_ explain to me. Things that apparently no one but Annubis could explain.

Let me explain what happened.

OoO

Daniel is a great kid, and his personality is very recognizable to me. My little archeologist still gets a little excited, and tends to wave hands around while talking at hundred miles an hour. I wouldn't mind if he actually got to the point, but…he rarely did and he rarely does.

"Daddy? Daddy? Excuse me? Can you here me? Daddy? What do _you_ think about this?"

_No idea, wasn't listening_. It kinda reminded me of the time during that _time loop_ fiasco when he jabbered away at me while I ate those damn Fruit Loops every morning. Gotta tell ya, that memory still makes me laugh. I told Daniel later that I never remembered what it was he asked me, no matter how hard I tried, and he remained stoically un-offended. Danny's endless questions made my brain bleed then and nothings changed, but now he doesn't get my subtle forehead slaps. Oiy, at least before he'd sniff before eventually stalking away. Nope, now he sits right next to me and yanks on my sleeve if he thinks my concentration has wandered.

I went for the forehead slap, determined to ignore the fact that Sara cleared her throat about a million times. See, I don't get that! Why doesn't this kid drive her nuts with all his questions?? She laughs at him and tells him to pace himself, it's early.

I cracked. "Daniel, for pity's sake, I am right next to you, how could I not hear you?"

Not that he got the hint. With an _oh-so_ elegant shrug, Daniel took a deep breath and started up again. Now, Sara is right, Daniel really needs to learn to pace himself. I mean face it, it was only lunch time and that meant there was a lot of day light left, but the little fart couldn't stop. When Giuseppe's teenage niece came over to take our order, instead of listening, he just kept right on jabbering away.

Cammie listened to the specials, pretended to _considah them_ and then ordered what he does every single time. Ravioli with extra stinky cheese and a soda. Sara ordered the tortellini and a glass of merlot; I ordered the lasagna and a beer. Who did that leave? The walking mouth piece.

Daniel was so keen to explain the cultural differences between the north and the south of Italy to the waitress who by the way, was born down the damn road from the restaurant, he missed the specials and decided to show off. He looked at the menu and ordered in Italian. Giuseppe came over and asked why Danny wanted a fried chair and a glass of oil? Poor little kid got all flustered when Cammie teased him, and he ordered the first thing Giuseppe mentioned, spaghetti and meatballs.

This shouldn't have been a problem. _Shouldn't have been_, but it was busy, and the tables were pushed too close together. When the food arrived, Daniel started up again, telling us all about the origin of the meatball, and when he stabbed at one of the little delicacies it flew across the room and into the lap of the poor man next to us. To say the poor bastard was horrified was an understatement.

While Sara and I were gamely trying to stop Cam from repeating Daniel's excellent trick, the little fart jumped off his chair, and ran over to the man, introducing himself in Italian. Daniel then grabbed the meatball from the middle of the stunned man's lap and popped it into his mouth, all the time babbling away. It got worse. Daniel didn't want to make a mess of his new rugby top, so excusing himself, he wiped his hands… on the man's chinos instead.

I paid the bill. I paid the other families bill, and left. Lenny would turn in his grave, if it hadn't been desecrated by Larry the grave robbing menace.

TBC…


	29. Chapter 29

Series: Dan and Cam.

Weekends at the O'Neill's. Title: The Shoe Caper.

Warnings: None

Feedback: Please.

This is just another in the snap shot ficlets of the guy's everyday lives.

Today was just one of those days. You know the ones when you can't remember simultaneously breaking those mirrors? Yep, today was just one of those days.

Let me explain.

Daniel needed new sneakers, and so after discussing where the word sneaker originated from, we made our plans. In and out, no long winded discussion with the sales person, no changing his mind twenty times, we were looking for exactly the same style as he had before.

He agreed. _Per say_.

"Make your mind up, peanut! Not rocket science!" I was exceedingly hopeful. Daniel? Not so sure.

"Daddy, I don't like to make snap decisions! What if I see a pair that I like better? What if the old style hurt my feet now? In case you haven't noticed, Daddy, I am much taller now! I need to make an informed and intelligent decision!" Taller? Since last month? Not from what I can see! Daniel was gearing up to drive me nuts, so I did what every good dad would do. I bribed with ice cream. I was desperate!

"Tell you what, you pick a pair within ten minutes and we'll all have ice cream sundaes? How's that Cam? It's a plan, Danny! Think a banana split sounds good? Daddy's treat!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Pardon me? You want a smacked bottom? Sure, just cuss again." I grabbed his arm, and tipping him upside down, I pretended to spank his ass.

He was torn between horror and near giggling hysteria. "Yes, Daddy! I mean, yes!!"

Dumping him onto his feet, I gave him Cameron the _look_, and he returned it with a sassy grin. I am so losing my touch with this little fart.

Daniel did make me laugh though, the little ghoul. Eyes wide, he clapped a hand over his mouth and squeaked. Think half of him wanted me to actually carry out my threat, but the other half kinda hoped I wouldn't! My world famous attorney likes to see that justice served, but loves his naughty brother to bits! He is, however, a very clever little boy, and while I'm sure he knew I was tap dancing, he knew a banana split was a darn good compromise. He looked at me, shoved his glasses up his nose and agreed ten minutes was do-able.

We had a go, but the mission took a disturbing turn. Nope, Unas weren't in the equation, but mighty close. A female heard the word shoe shopping, and the mission was officially a bust. Ten minutes? _Rrriight._

How did Samantha know? Cam_ the clueless _rang her, and she invited herself along before I could say "Are you nuts? Why would I take you to a mall when its gonna be my credit card that is doing all the spending?" Actually, I did say that, but she chose to ignore me. "Last time I looked," I said, "I out ranked a Lieutenant Colonel!" Carter agreed that was true, and said I could drive if I wanted. I accepted.

It got worse.

Daniel, _the fink_ O'Neill, blabbed to Carter all about my ten minute shoe shop hunt, conveniently leaving out the banana split treat I'd also promised. Oiy! With that narrow eyed look she gets when she's particularly pissed at a System Lord, she huffed, and then dragged us all into this up market shoe boutique aptly named, _Ten little toes_!

I ask you! _A boutique_ for sneakers! I wanted to pay fifteen bucks tops! Like that was ever going to happen in a _boutique_!

So, in we all went, and Danny went through the usual routine one does when one tries on new shoes. Not the fifteen dollar sneakers mind, but those over priced, fifty buck a pop Nike shoes. He did the normal things, you know the drill, you put on one shoe and take it for a test drive. Do the obligatory fast paced lap or two around the store, come back, and tell the assistant it's a size too small. Well, while Danny was doing that I couldn't help but notice Cameron jumping around like he'd sat on a nest of fire ants.

I always find it beneficial in the long run if I actually investigate all of Cam's ideas, but as usual the explanation defied all logic. Why am I not surprised?

Under his jeans, he carefully explained, his left knee looked hideously deformed, and concerned he'd contracted a terrible disease, he decided to investigate. Okay, I had to ask, what then? Anyway, balancing on one foot, Cam tried to look up his leg, to make sure all was well. A mighty tricky situation when wearing jeans I would have thought, but he at least gets marks for trying. He started to jump up and down, wriggle his ass, finally deciding to lose the jeans altogether. So, in the middle of the shoe boutique he undid his Levis, dived into the legs, with a cry of triumph, produced yesterday's pair of boxers. These, my small son waved in the air like a badge of honor. Did I mention Cammie's jeans were crumpled around his ankles? Did I also mention the elderly boxers he'd dragged from the utility room rag bin had a rip across the seat? No? There ya go…

It got worse. Much worse.

The sales assistant screwed up her face and asked us to leave.

Sam gave me that pissed narrow eye look again. She wasn't impressed.

Daniel slapped his hand across his forehead. He was mortified.

Me? I just laughed my ass off. This kid of mine is a bona fide one of a kind.

Cam must have learned an important lesson, and as soon as I can think of it, I'll let you know.


	30. Chapter 30

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Kryptonite

Challenge for the Kids Stargatedrabble List-: Haircut

Category: General.

Feedback: Yes Please.

Taking Cam to the barber deserves hazardous duty pay. Eyes glinting with menace, he takes one look at Mario and grows those teensy little horns. Mario takes one look at my kid and takes a honkin' great slug of whiskey. Can't say I blame him really; wish he'd offer me a shot.

Daniel, on the other hand, doesn't mind having his hair cut. Stares at me while he listens to my request, and with that little shoulder roll of his asks the pertinent question. "Will there be ice cream after?" If I say yes, and I always do, he'd happily agree to look like Yul Brynner. Kid loves his food. We use Mario around at the corner markets, and he does a great job. Okay, not great per say, but it's cheap and the kids' hair grows so darn quick, its value for money. Danny has fine, almost white hair, and Mario says he's the cutest bambino he knows. Note, he doesn't say Cam is a cute bambino, and there is a good reason for this. Cameron walks into his shop and morphs into a terrorist. Nothing is considered off limits to him, scissors, razors; products, are all touched and coveted by the little pest. Doesn't matter how many times Mario begs him to sit still, Cam spies something fascinating, and fingers waggling, lurches sideways. By the time his cut is done he looks like he's been attacked by the mower. I don't hold Mario in any way responsible, mans a goddamn saint.

Let me explain what happened and why Cam has another chunk of hair missing from over his ear. It's a hair rising story, and doesn't end well.

Cam loves to push his boundaries; it's the impetuous part of his personality that is instantly recognizable to anyone who knows his past. With this act first and think next week mentality it's no real surprise that this kid spends more time facing the wall than passing one. The reason for the bad hair day and the sulky little face is all due to his addiction to grape flavored bubble gum, and an ill-advised competition to blow the biggest bubble the world has ever seen.

In our house chaos would reign if I didn't enforce certain rules. Bed time is at nineteen hundred hours, no pets in bedrooms, and no bubblegum. Sure, who am I kidding? The bedtime is debatable. I spend half my life extracting pets from under blankets, and the other half removing gum from sticky little faces.

Little farts drive me insane.

Anyway, as I handed out their allowance last week, I issued the usual threats as to what I would do to their little persons if I found bubblegum in their pockets. Seeing shaggy heads nod obediently, I optimistically sent them off to play with various friends. Play-dates are great, best thing ever invented! Huge fan of them. Recommend them highly… except when it's my turn. Now, last Saturday was my turn, and opening the door, I looked into the face of the devil incarnate.

Yep, Cammie's best friend, Lucas. See the word association? Trust me, people, its there. Red hair, green eyes close together, front teeth missing, and double jointed, the kid scares the crap outta me. Anyway, Lucas's mom dropped him off, two hours early and Daniel hyper-ventilated within thirty minutes. He begged to be taken to Sara's house, Sam's house, or failing that, sold to passing gypsies. Kid is a drama queen. Phone call made, Danny camped by the front door, and as I opened it, he clung to my ex-wife like a leech, purple ratty rabbit clutched in his hand. One child down, two to go.

Best thing for hyper kids is the great outdoors, and so opening the back door, I hustled them out with strict instructions not to do anything that would make me regret getting out of bed. With a pointed look at my small son, I told him any trouble and I would get to the bottom of it quick smart. I think I was subtle enough; probably the swat I landed on his butt was overkill.

So, I sat at my kitchen table, minding my business watching the game as I tidied up, when I heard those fateful words.

"Cameron! Eww!!"

"Oh no! Daddy is going to kill me! Quick, we hafta hide!" Think I should have been worried? As I consider I have excellent intuition, I bolted.

Beating my way through the sticking screen door, stubbing my toe on the wooden steps when my flip-flops flew off, I slammed my mouth shut before a curse or ten could accidentally slip out. I settled for…doesn't matter.

Standing in front of me stood Lucifer and Cameron. Their faces where covered in bright green bubble gum, and I mean covered. Damn stuff was in their hair, on their eyelashes, probably even up their nose, and I was not pleased. This was like green goo you see on old horror movies and apparently it came from the internet. Lucas's big brother found it and ordered a ton of it. Terrific, there are more of these people out there. I decided to cut to the chase, not beating around the bush, and I find my general voice works well in these instances.

"Children! _Ah-ten-shun!_ What is that green stuff doing all over your face?" Well duh, but it made me feel better to shout. "Well! What is it?"

Lucifer eyed me coolly, blinked slowly and said in a tone that made me wonder if I were the village idiot's idiot brother. "Kryptonite?" Are you allowed to spank other people's kids I wondered?

I rang his mother and ignored her accusations of child abuse calmly pointing out the bubblegum came from their house. She snorted fire, like all dragons can, and drove away in her Volvo, to Volvo land.

That left Cameron and me to sort out the finer points of what no bubblegum actually means. He seems to become very confused by this; his idea of what constitutes obedience is somewhat blurred. According to my small son I needed to be more specific. Did I say he couldn't chew Lucas's big brother, Andy's, bubblegum? No? He rests his case. He informed me that if I run HWS like this then we are all in big trouble. What would the President think? He'd be very cross with me, and I could be looking at a serious time out. I pointed out that the only one in big trouble was him, and to cut with the smoke and mirrors. He shrugged, and with a sigh, asked if I wanted to rethink any of this, as really, it was my fault for not watching him properly. Cam is a born leader, and as such thinks very quickly on his feet. The situation he found himself in was looking bad, so like the good little ace he was, he tried to fly out of trouble by the seat of his pants. Have to hand it to him; Cam never goes down with a fight.

Telling him no, I graciously opened the back door and waved him through, making sure my hand dusted the _seat of his pants _several times. Directing him to the bathroom, ignoring his mutterings of 'bad and mean daddy', I looked at the hair of the side of his head. For the love of God! What is that? Snot? Squashed snail? Nope, it's bubblegum. Apparently, Lucifer had thought it would be a good idea to stick a gob of the gum into Cam's hair, so he'd get used to surviving Kryptonite. I'm telling ya, kid's the devil's spawn. Normally, if you place an ice cube on the gum and freeze it, it cracks, and you can remove it. Rubbing peanut butter is another one of Sara's old remedies that didn't work either. Nope, kryptonite by name, kryptonite by nature, it stuck to Cam's hair for grim life.

That meant one thing…haircut at Mario's. I rang and when he asked suspiciously which bambino I was bringing, I panicked.

Hand clamped over Cammie's mouth I uttered the traitorous words. "Daniel, he needs a little trim."

I figure if I can save the world a dozen or times or more, I can lie to a barber. Right?

Mario wasn't fooled.


	31. Chapter 31

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Valentine Anyone?

Category: Kidfic.

Warnings: None.

Feedback: Yes, please.

O~O

Jack willed himself to remain firm. His little reprobate deserved what he had coming, and taking his small son's s hand, guided him towards the dreaded spare room. Predictably, Cam yelped like he was being tortured with a Goa'uld pain stick, and with an eye roll, Jack finished the punishment quickly, and hugged his Oscar winning drama queen tightly.

"There, now! Stop that caterwauling! Cammie, you deserved the spanking, you know you did, but it's all over now!"

"I'm too u-upset to ev-hah t-talk to you a-again, D-daddy!" Cam hiccoughed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you'll recover." Jack patted his son's back while resisting the urged to hit his own head against the wall.

"C-ccan I have my ice-cream?"

"Nope."

"Ohh…I'm too sad to talk to you ev-hah again!"

"Okay."

After telling the tearful little boy he loved him, despite the fact he wasn't ever being talked to again, Jack kissed Cameron goodnight, and shutting the bedroom door, slowly counted to ten. God knows, he considered himself a patient man, but Cam's latest indiscretion left him shaking his head. The note sent home from Cam's teacher was long, detailed, and explicit; he was to attend another parent/teacher talk as soon as possible. Cameron O'Neill had done it again, and Jack was being called to explain his shortcomings as a dad.

Walking into the kitchen and returning Daniel's cool glare with an even cooler one, Jack eyed the Bourbon and wondered if a slug would get rid of his headache. Deciding it couldn't hurt, he sent Daniel to tidy the play room, and picking up the phone, called the one person he could discuss the little maniacs with and not feel completely inadequate.

"Sara? Don't suppose you're free tomorrow afternoon?"

OoO

***Earlier that day***

Cam twitched a shoulder and sighed. It was coming up Valentines Day, and Miss Bumstead talked earnestly about the poem she'd introduced to the class. Cam wanted no more than to cover his ears while singing "lalalala" loudly, but that would be disrespectful, and Cammie knew what his dad thought about that. Sighing again, and rolling his eyes, he looked over at his brother listening with a look of intense concentration on his face, and threw in his pencil in the air.

"Danny? Psst? Watch'cha doing?"

"Sshh! You'll get me into trouble!" Daniel glowered back.

"Least if we have to see the Principal, we'd be outta here!"

"Shh!"

This could not be happening! Daniel could not be so nerdy to actually believe all this Valentine rubbish? Could he? Girls were not worth talking about let alone writing about, and the more he thought; the more mutinous Cameron O'Neill's face became.

He decided he needed to save Danny from himself, and if that meant being naughty, then, so be it! Sometimes a boy had to think outside the square, and if getting a smacked bottom saved his brother from nerd-dom, well, Cameron was prepared to take the licks. Picking up his pencil, and smiling at Miss Bumstead with all the innocence he could muster, Cam began his ill advised plan, one that had no hope of ever working. In short, another Cameron O'Neill disaster.

He just needed Danny's unfailing co-operation, and being his brother and best friend in the whole wide world, Cameron never considered he'd bail.

Mistake number one.

Tbc…


	32. Chapter 32

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Poetry for the Beginner. 2/0?

Category: General.

Warnings: None.

Part 2 of the Stargate Kiddrabbles Challenge. A Great Idea!

_A Valentine__ by __Edgar Allan Poe._

"For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,  
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,  
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies  
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader."

Uma Bumstead's eyes took on a dreamy gaze and sighing, placed her book against her breast with a tremulous smile. "Children, I understand this probably doesn't make much sense, but I just wanted to read you this poem from the pen of a famous author, Edgar Allan Poe. He wrote my very favorite Valentine poem."

Cammie's loud sighs shook her back into reality, and lifting her head; she studied the cheeky, freckled faced little boy, and narrowed her eyes. She knew reading poetry to her second grade class was a brave call, but she just wanted to share this one. In hindsight, she should have just told them to make a card, and address to their mom's, sisters, or grandmothers, the usual, but she decided to try something daring and new. _"What were you thinking? You really asked for this, Uma!"_

"Cameron? Something you need to share with the class? Shall we discuss Mr. Poe's words once more?"

"No, Ma'am." Cammie smiled back. "I was just thinking out loud, Miss Bumstead!" The look he gave her dared her to accept that any private matter of his was no business of hers. "I was just so taken with Eggie Assbert Pee-o"

Uma felt her left eye tic, and her fingers curled tightly into the folds of her skirt. "It's Edgar Allen Poe, Cameron. It's a hard name, but try to remember at least some of it." She swallowed as if something caught in her throat; this wasn't how she wanted the lesson to go, and it was time to put an end to Cam's shenanigans before they started.

"Not Eggie Ass-bert Pee-o? Are you sure, Ma'am?"

"Why? Do you think I can't recall my favorite poet's name?" It was a statement yet a challenge nonetheless. She considered Cam's tone was full of bravado, and she wasn't pleased.

Uma backed up a step, and perching her bottom on the edge of her desk, drummed her unspectacular coral-pink colored fingernails on her poetry book. "_Mm, I smell trouble_ _brewing!"_ Placing her book lovingly on the desk, she proceeded to smooth her sensible beige skirt over her thighs. '_Take a deep breath, Uma!' _ She saw the bold look Cam passed to Daniel, and figured it couldn't be good. Cam was clearly bored, and that made him mischievous. Glancing from Cammie's grinning face to Daniel look of resignation, she thought quickly. "_Okay, divide and conquer! I'm sure the dishy General O'Neill would approve of such tactics!"_

"Daniel? Did you like the poem by Mr. Poe? I know what a clever little boy you are; maybe you can tell me what your thoughts are about poetry. It's very different, isn't it! Then, we can see if anyone else, like Cameron, can add anything to the discussion!" Eyeing the shocked face of Cam coolly, she added sweetly, "Cameron? Didn't you just tell the class how taken you were with my poem."

"You want me to a-add to the d-d-dis'cus'in ''bout poetry? Me? O-okay! Guess you know what you're doing, Ma'am!"

"Thank you, Cameron, so best you listen to the others very carefully!" Uma Bumstead knew that issuing a challenge to Cameron, a child whose catch cry was I can _always_ do a little better than second place, was brave, but, she figured she was up for it. She bit her lip to stop the smile that threatened to blossom, and began to rehearse the note she'd no doubt be sending home to his daddy.

Had she not looked into his blue eyes she may have missed the flicker of looming monkey business, and wondered what the afternoon would bring. "Cammie, Cammie, Cammie!" she whispered.

OoO

In his local elementary school's playground, Cameron and his second grade buddies knelt in a circle by the blue and yellow jungle gym. Head down, tongue peeking though his lips, he checked out a chubby kid's collection of Pokemon trading cards and grinned. For the kids of Colorado Springs Elementary these little cards were an obsession, and considered a darn nuisance by the administrators and subsequently banned. All the kids knew the rules, but Cam was one of those kids who always pushed the boundaries. Every chance he got, he would defy everyone by stashing his treasured bundle of cards into his back pack and sneak them to school. Course, he wasn't the only one.

"Hey, Stevie, swap?" Holding out his brand new Pokemon card, Cam picked up Stevie's tatty one, and smiling at him, started his greatest ever plan to trick Miss Bumstead into stopping all talk of poetry. The idea of writing a Valentine to a stinky girl was stinky, and he'd do anything to make sure he didn't have to discuss any stoopid poem. His scruples slipped as he plotted and planned, all thoughts of anyone else feelings were conveniently pushed to the side.

"Huh? Why?" Stevie was a child only a mother could love, and his plain face wrinkled with confusion. Suffering from a permanently runny nose, he sniffed revoltingly loudly, and looked at the prize card being offered. "Wow!" Edging forward, he showered Cam in a fine spray of spit. "Why would you wan' swap this one for my old beat up one? I don' get it, Cam!"

Ignoring the snickering of his friends, Cammie wiped the spittle from his face, and slipped into his easy southern charm. "Nothin' to get, Stevie. We're buddies, right? And buddies do stuff for each other, right?" Lips curling into a wry grin, he waved an arm out to include everyone, and purred, "Guess you don' wanna be friends with us."

That's all it took. A chance to be with the popular kids lunch table was every chubby little nerd's dream, and with a nervous smile, Stevie Smith took the prized possession in his fingers. With a gulp and a nervous stutter, he asked the question Cam was waiting for. "W-w-hat d-d-d o I h-h-h-ave t-to d-d-do?!"

Cam tried for a wink his daddy always did when they shared a secret, but was disappointed it came out as a half blink. "When my brother starts yackin' away about Egg-pee's stoopid ole poem, you just hafta ta ask these questions, okay?" Handing him a scribbled note, Cam looked over his shoulder and seeing Daniel's accusing glare, poked out his tongue in defiance. He didn't need his brother to tell him he was being mean to Stevie, pretending to be his friend only so he would disrupt the class, he already knew that. Gesturing for Stevie to hide the note in his jeans pocket, he ordered him to be careful. "Study the questions at lunch, and if my brother asks what you're doing, make up something! Okay?"

"O-okkayy!" Stevie did a deal with a little imp, and would live to regret it.

TBC…


	33. Chapter 33

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam.

I Spy Challenge- Loaded Syringe

Category: General

Warnings: None

Feedback: Yes.

~0~

Cam is just one of those kids. You know the kind. If a dare is even hinted at, no matter how lame, he decides it's a great idea. The other little nit-wits egg him on, and bingo, before I can open my mouth to remind him of consequences, Houston, we have lift off. Often literarily.

We've had *many* discussions about his dare devil streak. I have told him to think first --count to ten -- but nope, Cam sees hope and glory all rolled into one. He figures this will be the one stunt the other kids talk about for centuries to come. Well, the kids may forget, but the other parents sure don't. Yep, we O'Neill's are the talk of the grade school water cooler.

Last week was a classic example of my space cadet come Evil Knievel wanna be.

Let me explain.

We have a shed in the yard, like most suburban families, but this one is off limits to small boys. I store my paints, wood work tools, gas for the mower, and most importantly, it's where I make by fishing lures. In other words, it's my space, and that should be the end of any discussion.

Note I say, should be.

Danny and Cam are very different children. Daniel is still the thoughtful person he was formerly and every bit as stubborn. His has his lap top, courtesy of Sam, but as he's six-years old, I made her install a nanny-net program. I don't want the little fart accessing sites that aren't suitable for wide eyed nosey parkers. He hates this, complains on a daily basis that I am contravening his basic human rights. My answer is always the same. Daniel invariably stomps off, muttering that I'm Idi Amin, Saddam Hussein, and meanie, all rolled into one horrible daddy.

I am constantly crushed.

Don't have the same problem with the other kid. _No-Sir-Ree-Bob_! Cammie doesn't give a hoot about computers, although I have no doubt he'd love to access the sites I ban. Nope, this bundle of energy likes action. Cam is a cutie, but displays the same impetuous personality he had before the accident, and there is nothing he won't attempt. His real parents should be canonised. The thought of his sainted folks leads us nicely to my shed. My rickety old garden shed is Cameron's Holy Grail, and no matter how many times we dance the dosey-do about what _no_ actually means, he's drawn to it. When I asked Sara if she thought he'd try and climb it again, she shrugged. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"

Gotta say, summed it all up.

Last week it all came to a head. I drew the short straw and therefore hosted the weekly play-date we parents have been suckered into believing is a good idea. Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge fan, just not at my house. To qualify that chicken-shit comment, I have to say that Danny's friends are fine. Julia, RJ, and Snoop. Don't ask, but if Snoop were mine I'd be on tranquilizers and the SGC would be as well known as Disney Land. These kids eat what they are given, drink what I offer, and do as they are told. Love em all, even Snoop.

Cam's friends? Oiy. Where to begin? We have Caitlin McGregor, femme fatale. Lucas O'Hare, the devil's own child. Jeffrey William, nice kid, and then there's Cameron. The leader of the rat-pack. It was my turn, and when I looked at the roster my heart sunk. Cam's buddies. Well, after I threw them outside with dire warnings what terrible things a two star general could order done, Lucas clamoured into the kitchen demanding more food, better drink, and a ladder. It was the casual mention of a ladder that threw me. Racing outside, I looked up and there he was, hanging from the drain pipe that leans near the shed. Wide eyed, bottom lip trembling, Cammie was trying very hard not to cry, but he had good reason to want to. He'd slipped apparently, and grabbing on the pipe, sliced his hand on a rusty nail. The gash on his hand was nasty, and needed stitches, and that meant a trip to the Accident and Emergency. **Again.**

Poor little fart.

Mrs Grabowski was enlisted mind the goon squad until parents came, and calling Carter, told her to meet me at the usual spot. We even have chairs there we prefer. Doctor Lizzie waved us in, and plonking Cam onto the exam table, she made her fatal mistake. She picked up the loaded syringe for the tetanus jab, and told Cam it wouldn't hurt a bit. Well, see, that's just not true. A jab in the butt is always going to hurt, and as she acquired target, Cam let loose howls that shook the rafters.

Suffice to say he didn't go down without a fight, and as we wrested our way out of the waiting room, avoiding the condemnation of the other parents, we slunk into the truck. Cam was still very upset. Finally getting him to sit his tender butt into his booster chair, he turned snaky. Through his hiccups and tears, he asked Sam, "why?"

Why would I let him near the shed knowing the drain pipe was rusty? Where was I in his time of need? Drinking pop and eating all the toasted sandwiches? I should be the one to have the injection in the butt not him! After all, he sobs, hanging onto to Sam while glaring at me, "it's my shed."

I ask you.


	34. Chapter 34

Author: Lisa

Series: Dan and Cam.

Title: Midnight Folly.

For Stargate Kidsdrabbles List; Challenge: Midnight Feast, milk and cookies.

Everyday is interesting in the O'Neill home. Take yesterday for instance. Please, really, take it away!

I'd come up from the utility room, arms full of washed laundry, when I came across a sight that whilst to the un-initiated may have looked adorable, to me raised a red flag. As I watched my fair haired little boys from the safety of the door-jamb, I listened to their hushed voices _very_ carefully. Now, I wasn't eaves dropping because I'm nosy, but with these farts? Please, I'd be a card carrying moron if I didn't check out the lay of the land. Besides, who needs to eavesdrop when these kids whisper! People in Chicago can probably hear them.

I am the first to admit that watching them, heads so close together they touched, that these are mighty cute kids. Patched jeans, rumpled t-shirts, ball caps turned the wrong way; they are as all American as apple pie. Looks can be deceptive though, and so I placed the wash basket down, smiled, and enquired politely what they were whispering about.

My Momma didn't raise no fool.

They jumped, bumping those fair heads together, and with no small measure of satisfaction, I knew they hadn't heard me walk up. The little farts blinked with innocence while explaining as it was _brother business_, it was a _need to know_ scenario.

There was no doubt in my mind that I had been dismissed, so after I reminded them of cause and effect, I left them to it. My work is never done, and with fifteen unmatched socks, I went back to my housewifely duties. Hi-ho, Hi-Ho.

That night, when all small boys were _supposed_ to be tucked up in bed, the O'Neill _brother mission_ unfolded. It was one requiring great daring and skill, and I later found out, was knick-named Secret Squirrel. Yep, Rocky and Bullwinkle of Colorado Springs were hard at it. They played together quietly if not covertly all day, and as I'd had a bitch of a week, I didn't go borrowing trouble. I looked at my tired, unshaven face in the mirror, and thought, 'what could go wrong?' So they plotted and schemed while I hoovered and dusted. Bedtime can be a shambles in our house; kids will do anything not to get ready, and usually drives me nuts while I remind them who the boss of the show really is. Last night had been little different, all wide, toothy grins, expansive hugs and pats on my face. I'm thinking the little farts must have gathered their proverbial nuts, hiding them in Cammie's cupboard when I was out the back cutting the grass, so after spaghetti bolognaise, Cam and Dan took their bath, cleaned their teeth, kissed me goodnight, and went to sleep.

Well, that's what should have happened, but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

I must have gone to bed around twenty two hundred hours, and the rain pounding on my window pane sent me to sleep. Least one of the O'Neill's had been doing what was expected of them.

Then, around midnight I heard something moving in the house. So, I swung my legs out of bed, tripped over one of the kittens, and refusing to cuss, listened very hard. It sounded like coughing and then like someone barfing. Now, as any parent will tell you, that is one sound guaranteed to have you running down the hallway, bare footed while praying the kid missed the bed covers. Skidding down the hall, crashing into one room, seeing no child, then hi-tailing it to the other, I pushed the door open and saw two sad and sorry little kids, green around the gills, and beer can in hand. There were chip packets scattered all over the floor, beer nuts and pretzels on the bed, in other words… looked like one of my poker nights gone wrong. However, I must say, my poker buddies don't leave their nuts in my bed; thank you very much for asking.

I knelt down, opened my mouth to start the lecture that was itching to trip of my tongue when Danny stood, said he felt sick, and proceeded to barf into cupped hands. Cam went wild eyed and throwing his hand over his mouth, barged past me only to barf all over the once beige carpet. He cried, Daniel wailed, and I tried to keep my spaghetti in my stomach where it belonged. The kitten skittered in, side-ways, fat tailed, hissing and spitting right through the vomit and tracked it out of the room. Yep, midnight, and all is well in the O'Neill asylum.

To cut a long story short, I threw kids into my shower, then into my bed, and turned off the light ordering them to go to sleep. Cam answered me with a beery belch; Danny answered me with a pickled onion fart. The kitten pounced in the middle of them, no doubt feeling a little tetchy having her paws dunked in the sink, and I spent an hour and a half cleaning up after the midnight feast in Danny's room.

When I was a kid, we stole milk and cookies! Warm beer and spicy crackers are officially off the menu, and let's not even discuss the jar of pickled onions.

I ask you.


	35. Chapter 35

Author: Amberfly

Title: Butterflies and kittens. Challenge for the Little Stargate List.

Category: General.

Warnings: None.

My take was Butterflies and Kittens.

Thanks Annie for the beta, naturally all mistakes are still mine.

Jack yawned, and stretching, looked through the kitchen window at the pair of canoodling birds on his outdoor table, and smiled his encouragement. "O-ookay, campers, looks like it's going to be a beautiful day!"

Spring was his favorite time of the year and a lazy brunch his favourite meal. Taking a mouthful of coffee, he called Sara to say hello, reminding her to expect the O'Neill's within the hour.

"Hey, so you're awake?" Jack resisted the urge to bang the receiver on his forehead.

"Darn it all! You guessed! Tell me, what was the give away? Me actually answering the phone?" Sara's throaty chuckle flew down the phone.

"Yeah, so, I'll pick you up soon as the kids get ready. Oh, Jack Benny? Piece of advise, wear nothing that doesn't wash _real_ well." Grinning, he reminded her of the chocolate shake and cream silk blouse incident

The previous brunch they'd enjoyed at Starbucks, Dan and Cam had smuggled in banned tiny rubber balls. Burning holes in their jean pockets, the naughty little boys had waited for Jack to leave and pay the bill before bouncing them with gusto onto the hard-board floor. The two red balls went *ka-ping*, and flew into the air while Sara watched them descend, landing neatly into the middle of her mostly untouched chocolate thick shake. Disaster had ensued.

"Oh no!" squawked Daniel.

"Shazaam!" squeaked Cameron.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" hissed Sara.

"What in God's name is going on here?" demanded Jack.

Wincing at the memory of finger pointing, blame-sharing children, snippy waitresses, and disapproving patrons, Jack rolled his eyes. "Okay, best I remember to frisk 'em first."

The brunch with Sara had been the first outdoor activity without being rugged up in winter gear for months, and everyone was excited to be free of the heavy clothes. The boys had endured the long Colorado winters with good grace, but tiring of inside games, were itching to get out and about again. Bike riding after a lazy brunch with Sara seemed like the perfect treat for them all, and when she readily agreed, a date had been made.

Over hearing the conversation, Danny and Cam had been ecstatic. Dancing around their bedroom, they took a brotherly vow to be extra good and not risk losing any green stars. Finally, after crossing one day at a time off the fridge calendar, Saturday arrived, and Jack found himself as eager as the boys.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Jack called out for Daniel and Cameron to get their toushies out of bed and dressed. With a sigh, he resigned himself for the inevitability of squabbles while claiming tooth brushes, cleanish jeans and hopefully, even cleaner shirts. Thinking about climbing the stairs and brokering a peace, he opted for calling out once more. "Boys? If we are going to see Sara for pancakes _this_ millennium, best you get those _completely_ dressed butts of yours down here!"

Jack shook his head at the sound of bare feet thundering across their bedroom floors, and called out the age old paternal warning. "No running down the-"

He bit off the rest of his sentence as he heard the galumphing down the stairs and groaned at the sight of his ragamuffin kids grinning in the doorway. Danny bounced into the room first, shirt buttoned crookedly, while Cammie wore his jersey back to front. Crooking a finger and motioning for Cam to come closer, Jack pulled the excited boy onto his knee and breathed in the smell of the bubblegum shampoo they'd used the night before. The whiff unexpectedly triggered a long forgotten memory, and only half listening to the boys chatter, Jack let his mind wander back to another small boy whose bed-hair always smelt of bubblegum shampoo.

Glancing outside into the new morning, Jack lifted a hand to shade his eyes. A monarch butterfly landed briefly before flying away, and he murmured to himself, _Butterflies and kittens_. With a sigh, he closed his eyes for a minute and was transported back to another spring day a decade before.

~o~

Sarah sang along with the morning radio before moving the curtains back to check on Jack and Charlie working in the yard. Mother Nature had outdone herself and revealed another stunning spring day, and after enduring a particularly brutal Colorado winter, they had all been keen to get out and about once more. That meant flower beds to dig, grass to cut, and fresh lemonade on tap for thirsty workers.

Sitting down earlier to feast on blueberry pancakes and chocolate milk shakes, Jack, Sara, and Charlie discussed what the new day would bring. Yard work, followed by a bike ride in the park, followed by an early barbecued supper was agreed upon, and shooing the workers outside, Sarah had rung her dad to invite him over for supper.

"Pop? Come over for an early supper? Say five? Great, love you!" Sara turned up the radio and embracing the day, sung while preparing food for the impromptu family get together.

Working outside, cutting the grass and weeding the garden as ordered, Jack and Charlie chatted. Eventually the conversation came around to the local little league, and Charlie's hints to have his daddy stick around and coach. Jack smiled sadly and deftly changed the subject, knowing he could promise nothing. He was lucky to get the leave he got, and so looked around for something to take the little boy's mind away from his staying.

"Charlie! Come here, but you have to be real quiet, okay?" A monarch butterfly had settled on the azalea shrub near Jack's hand, and shaking its colorful wings showed how beautiful nature had made it. "Don't touch, but butterflies means spring is really here!"

"Oh! It's so pretty! Can I touch it?" Charlie reached out a hand only to have it gently captured by his daddy's larger one.

"Monarchs are springs special gift to us, Charlie. It means new life, so, don't touch it."

Charlie nodded, wise beyond his years. "Spring time means butterflies and kittens, doesn't it?" The next door neighbor's cat had had kittens the previous day, and sneaking a look at the tiny creatures, Charlie was told he could look, but wasn't to touch.

Jack raised an eyebrow, and was once again surprised by the wise little soul he'd helped make. "Butterflies and kittens, huh?" Looking over at his five-year-old son's freckled face, Jack's heart constricted with love and pride he knew would last forever. "I guess that's exactly what springtime means."

Fate will never be denied though, and one spectacular spring day five years later, Jack and Sara's life changed for ever. An insatiable curiosity meant Charlie forgot his father's warnings, and his childish foolishness caused the magic of spring to die along with him. Lazy family barbeques, bike rides in the park, blueberry pancakes with chocolate milk shakes now belonged to another time, and heart-broken, Sara found herself adrift.

Jack struggled on alone, and slurring over an empty glass of whiskey one day, winced at the sound of birdsong outside his window. Getting to his feet and crashing drunkenly to the ground, he sobbed, remembering when the sounds of spring had meant nothing more than monarch butterflies and newborn kittens.

Years passed so quickly, and a born survivor, Jack put away his self pity and forced himself to make a new life. Life became very different for the soldier, and a new family appeared one day, and despite his reluctance, chipped away at his frozen heart. They needed him more than ever, and unable to stop himself from caring, Jack found a reason to live once more.

One day, sitting in a plush office in Washington, fate stepped up to the plate again, and at the age of fifty, General O'Neill found himself a daddy once more. Two freckled faced children bounded into his life, and embracing them, a family was re-born.

Jack's life changed for the better, and reconnecting with Sara, springtime became his favorite season once more. He never forgot Charlie, and once a year, he was always reminded of kittens and butterflies, and a time for forgiveness.


	36. Chapter 36

Author: Amberfly

Series: Dan and Cam

Title: Valentine's Day and other Horror Stories.

Warnings: Nope.

Sadly…not beta'd.

Heart hammering in his chest, the black clad intruder took shallow breaths as he crept down the hallway on his hands and knees. Using all the stealth of a thief in the night, he picked up the pace urging himself to be both brave and noble. "Don't be such a chicken-shit!"

Finally arriving at his destination, he reached out a black gloved hand before deftly turning the handle of the door. "Easy does it," he cautioned himself. The old adage of when did Plan A ever work coming into play, the floorboards betrayed his stealth and instantly creaked in protest. His eyes widened with alarm and he whirled around expecting to see trouble in size twelve army boots. Sweat beaded on his top lip.

"C-crap!" Anxiety tightened the nocturnal visitor's features as his hand flew to his mouth to stifle anymore-imprudent words escaping. As if the universe suddenly conspired against him, he groaned as both the ancient flashlight died and clouds camouflaged the shards of moonlight that that had conveniently peeked through the drapes. Standing in total darkness, he blinked several times before he murmured softly, "Okay, so I guess it's now or never!"

A grimace tugged at his lips as he squeezed himself through the crack in the door, shooting a final, quick look over his shoulder. He knew that if he were going to be rumbled his captor would likely be here by now. The thought caused him to shiver. He'd never crack under torture, no matter how heinous, but it was still best not to have to test his resolve.

A look of pure triumph crossed his face as he felt for the light switch, instantly dimming it. In the yellowish, half-light, he strode across the floor, smooth, easy, confident, just like the ninja he admired so much. Rolling up the sleeves of his black pajamas, his hard little fingers shook his slumbering prey awake.

"Wake up, Daniel!"

Daniel blinked owlishly into the light before rolling onto to side feigning sleep once more.

"Wont!"

Cammie groaned at his brother's feeble attempt to ignore him, and his fingers dug in a little tighter.

"P-Pssst…."

"No. Go away!"

"Nope, no can do, soldier." With that, Cammie remembered the entrance he'd rehearsed and falling to the floor, he rolled into a tight ball and muttered, "Pretend this is the first time you've seen me! I'm practicing my uzura-gakure!"

"Oh fer cryin'outloud! What?"

"Uzura-gakure, rock-dweeb! I have to remain motionless so you think I am a stone! All us ninjas know what uzura-gakure means!" Words muffled due to his knees in his mouth, Cam wheezed before giving up the dubious mode of camouflage. "Phew, that's kinda hard to do. So, you awake now?"

The look Daniel gave his brother said that he was dangerously close to crossing a line. Arms folded across his chest, he said tensely, "I am calling for dad if you don't uzura-gakure your stoopid ass outta my room!"

"Nah, you won't squeal on me." Jumping onto the bed and casually tossing several of Daniel's stuffies to the floor, Cam smiled while baring his teeth like a little wolf. He hadn't risked losing his three green stars thus staying home for family day for nothing. He was on a sacred mission.

"So, Danny, wanna hear my excellent plan before or after I give you a killer noogie?" Cam buffed his nails on his pajama top, huffing on them for extra menace. It did the trick.

"Fine…." Shuffling further up his bed Daniel slapped Cam's hand away and sighed softly. "What harebrained scheme do you expect me to play along with this time?

"Well, you know Miss Bumstead said its Valentine's Day soon, right? She explained what sissy stuff men have to do, remember? Flowers, candy, and those secret, sappy Valentines cards?"

Daniel rubbed his eyes as he stifled a jaw cracking yawn. "What about it?"

"We want Sarah to be our mom, right? So it's up to me and you to make sure Daddy doesn't get it all wrong.

A moments silence hung in the room. Daniel's blue eyes widened with fright.

"God, tell me you aren't thinking of using dad's credit card to buy her flowers and candy?"

Cam's expression fell flat like one of Sarah's awful lemon sponge cakes. His cunning plan seemed to suddenly sound lame. "Wha-? Er…hell no!" Cam was all bravado, just short on substance occasionally.

"You are! Cammie, Dad will skin you alive if you use it again! Remember last time? Huh? Do you? Huh?"

Cam flinched. "I have those memories," he conceded.

"Then, ninja-nitwit, just roll like the stone you are out of my room."

Realizing his mistake, Cam quickly changed the subject of foolishly pilfered AMEX cards. "Oh, I didn't mean buy stuff! Nooo, I meant we can send Sarah Valentines cards and pretend they are from daddy! We can leave her flowers and stuff on her doorstep."

Hand slapped against his forehead, Daniel groaned before hissing, "Flowers? Stuff? Doorstep? Pray tell how do we do that?"

Another awkward silence descended on the room.

"Okay, obviously we can't get them to her house without riding to the bus stop and …."

"Which means not only leaving the yard, but also means riding by the Thompson's house with flowers in our backpacks?" Daniel grinned a little nastily. "Don'cha think they might call us sissies?"

"Sissies?"

Daniel drove home the advantage. "Even if we made it past those Neanderthals, think what happens next when Sarah wises up and decides she outta call daddy?"

Cameron blinked, dumb struck with horror.

"Sissy? Me? Thompson's might think that I'd was some dumb 'ole sissy? Like you?" The thought of such un-manly behavior appalling Cam, he nodded his head quickly, ignoring the wry look flitting across his brother's face.

"Imagine if they tattled at recess!" Daniel added smoothly, "and please, don't even ask me what terrible, hideous and painful punishment daddy would think up. He is Black-ops after all!"

"They'd really think they tell everyone that I was a…*cough*…a… sissy?"

"Yup."

Any thought of pesky, paternal retribution paled into insignificance. What was a smacked fanny when faced with the humiliation of being caught with flowers in your Mutant Teenage Ninja Turtle, backpack? What would Leonardo think? Leaning across and affectionately rapping a knuckle on Danny's sleep tousled head, he said, "This is why you are the general, Daniel. So, get some shut-eye and have a plan ready for tomorrow. We don't have much time, and Sarah is counting on you. I'm counting on you, so don't let me down." Jumping off the bed, he slammed one little fist into the other and added, "Or else!"

"Wha-?"

Tiptoeing into the hallway while remembering to flatten himself against the wall in case of an incursion, Cammie slunk back to his room. Eyes shining brightly, he jumped into bed, rubbed the silky feel of the ninja pajamas lovingly before yawning and falling instantly to sleep. The little wing-wiper was confident that Daniel would find the answer to his Valentine Day problem. One, he wisely reconsidered, that didn't involve AMEX cards, unauthorized bus rides, or worse- flowers hanging out of backpacks.

In the room down the hall, the once sleepy little archeologist laid wide awake, horror etched deeply into his freckled face. "Me?"

TBC….


	37. Chapter 37

Part 11

Cold, windy and wet, Valentine's Day dawned far too quickly for young Daniel. After Cam's late night **tête à tête** he'd slept poorly and knuckling the sleep from his eyes, he gave serious consideration to flipping back onto his belly and sleeping the cold winter's day away. Smacking his lips together in anticipation of further napping, the sleepy little boy winced when Jack's dulcet tones reverberated up the stairs, into his room and booming close to his left earhole.

It left nothing to chance.

"Daniel, the waffles are ready in five…move your little toushie or it'll be oatmeal for you."

"Coming, Daddy!"

Instantly awake expertly discarding pajamas and slipping on sweaters and jeans, he barreled down the stairs his mouth salivating at the unexpected treat, all thoughts of Valentine's Day madness temporarily forgotten. Skidding into his chair slightly out of breath, he grinned cheekily at Jack. They both knew this his was exactly how he liked to start his day…with food.

"Kiddo, it's so nice of you to join us this not so fine morning." Jack said, sliding several waffles onto the shiny, white plate.

"Wow, waffles! Neat!" Danny's killer watt smile dipped when he saw the odd expression flitting across on Cam's face. He knew the look and it didn't bode well for either of them.

"Morning, Cam." He mumbled around an overstuffed mouthful.

"Good morning, brother, sleep well?" Cam enquired sweetly.

"Taking his fork and stabbing at a ridiculously large hunk of waffle, Daniel's small face was alight with indignation. "Nope, I had a bad dream that some maniac came into my room."

"Oh? Why didn't you call out?" Jack asked. He bent over, his hands on his knees, his worried expression showing the concern he felt. "Danny, just call me, okay?"

"Sure, Daddy," Daniel replied, "Next time, I'll definitely call you!"

Jack smiled. "You know I'm only ever just a step away."

"Yeah, me too, Danny, I'm just a step away too." Cam's solicitous tone fooled no one.

"Oh, I can call daddy, it's quite alright, Cam."

"Ah, but is that wise?" Came the quick retort.

Jack frowned, turned and studied the two kids carefully. With a shrug, he downed his coffee before shrugging and saying, "Boys, I have a lot to do today, and we need to get to the market before the weather sets in. "

"T'riffic."

"Excuse me?"

Jack's eyebrow rose and he pointed to the sink saying brusquely, "Cam, you tidy up in here. Daniel, as you sound a little peevish, I better hear more about this nightmare."

"Peevish? Me?"

"Him?" Cam gulped. When Jack's back was briefly turned, he made a swishing movement across his throat while fixing the evil, brotherly stink eye. Daniel wasn't impressed and rolled his eyes towards the heavens.

"I don't remember much about the bad dream now, "Danny said, fixing a flat stare at Cammie. "I'll just stay here and help Cam tidy up the kitchen, okay?"

With a bemused look, Jack agreed. "I'll be about thirty minutes, so get a move on."

"Yes, Daddy "came the chorused reply.

OoO

With Jack safely out of the room, Cam jumped from his chair and grabbed the syrupy spoon. "Eww, it's all sticky!" Running a finger along the spoon and then shoving it into his mouth, he mumbled around the sweet maple syrup, "So, how are we going to get the flowers and candy to Sarah?"

"Well, I have had one or two thoughts, but remember that I haven't had much time to plan this."

A small smile crept across Cam's face. "Yeah, but your plans are always so darn good." He didn't need to add- unlike my disasters! That was a given.

Flattered by unexpected praise, Daniel grinned back. Suddenly keen to be seen as the cleverer of the two. "Okay, so, what do we have and what do we need?"

"We have nothing and need everything." Cammie replied cheerfully, a smile splitting his freckled face.

Daniel sighed. "Sometimes it's very hard being in this family."

OoO

The V-Day plan was discussed while rinsing plates and loading the dishwasher. Today was market day, and that meant there would be plenty of flowers in brightly colored plastic buckets everywhere. It was just a matter of price. Between them they had a grand total of seventy five cents, and the boys felt very rich indeed. Confident Sarah would be drowning in flowers, candy and cards, the boys bounced on the balls of their feet, anxious to get started. They just needed to have some of the finer points clear in their minds.

"Okay, looks like we are good to go, Dan."

Daniel wasn't so sure.

"Yep, but Cammie, can't help thinking we're missing something here."

Hovering around the constantly opened door of the fridge, Cam sighed when seeing the soda had been placed far above his sticky fingers. Jack could be so suspicious. Slamming the door shut, he turned to Daniel and said, "What's the matter?"

"Miss Bumstead said you're supposed to give your sweetheart *cough* long stemmed roses, Wonder how many we'll get for seventy five cents?"

"Oh, I 's'pect we'll get at least one hundred!"

"Really? Because I thought roses cost a lot." Daniel's brow wrinkled in concentration as old memories spun around his brain a million miles an hour. Just when he thought he'd remembered something from long ago- it was gone again.

"Nah, "Cammie said confidently, "if they costed a lot, why do they grow in people's gardens? Nope, I reckon we'll get about fifty, and then we have twenty five cents left to buy candy."

"Think we can get one of those big pink heart candy boxes?" Danny asked hopefully.

"Hell yeah," Cam shot back, "we can probably buy two for twenty five cents!"

TBC…


	38. Chapter 38

TBC…

Part 3

Title: The Power behind the Candy Box

The telltale sounds of little footsteps thundering across the floorboards meant one thing-the boys had forgotten their dad's instructions to find warm sweaters and thick socks and were merrily goofing off instead. Jack knew that like most little boys, such dreary instructions tended to go in one ear and straight out the other, and standing by the foot of the stairs, he cupped his hand to his mouth and hollered a reminder…daddy style.

"Children, what did I send you up to your rooms for? Was it to run around like farts in a bottle or was it to get changed so we can go shopping?"

The boys instantly called back, denying any civil disobedience. Daniel's voice was full of self-righteous indignation. "I am just lacing my shoes, Daddy. You know, it's quite tricky, and the more you hurry me the more my fingers won't work." He finished his statement with an offended little sniff.

Pinching the bridge oh his nose, Jack answered with exaggerated patience, "Then come down and let me help you."

In an amazing quick change of heart, Daniel let Jack know what he thought of the suggestion. It wasn't much. "Help me? Tie a shoe? Daddy, I am not a little kid you know."

"Wha-?" Jack threw his hands in the air, wondering exactly when he lost control of the conversation. Privately, he thought, he probably never had it in the first place. Next, as if on cue, Cammie's shifty voice floated down the stairs.

"I'm just looking for my…um…arm."

This time, Jack smelt a rat and yelled back, "Arm? Oh, fer cryin' out loud! Cameron, do not make me come up there and dress you!"

Like Daniel, the indignation in Cam's voice had Jack shaking his head with confusion.

"R-right, like I can't dress myself!"

"Give me strength, then why say you…never mind."

A noise suspiciously sounding like a scuffle was heard before Daniel sweetly replied punctuated with a little laugh. "Oh, Cammie's such a kidder! He meant, Daddy, that he is having trouble putting his arm into his sleeve." Sometimes, when he least expected it, the Daniel of old made an appearance and the common sense replies sucker punched him. He took a deep breath and chased away traitorous, painful thoughts of days long gone.

"Thank you, Daniel. I did presume your brother hadn't become 'armless."

"Oh, nice one, Daddy!" Guffawed Cam, armless, get it?"

"Get down here now."

The boys flew down the stairs wearing the exact same sweaters as before, but glancing out the window, Jack didn't seem to notice. Handing off their jackets, he grabbed the keys and herded the children out the door and into the garage. "Come on, get in. You do know that all the good cuts of meat will be gone."

Since Dan and Cam really only liked hamburgers, they shrugged with childish indifference. Climbing into their seats, they waited patiently for Jack to inspect their attempt of buckling themselves in.

Sucking in his rounded little belly to allow Jack space to test the buckle, Daniel reached out a hand and patted his dad's face tenderly. "Daddy, do you know what day it is today?"

"Do I know what day it is? Danny, its Sunday, why we are going to the market."

"Sunday, sure", added Cam quietly, but do you know the date?"

Leaning across the check Cam had buckled his belt properly; Jack was surprised to see the knowing look flash quickly in Cammie's eyes. First Daniel had surprised him and now Cameron had. "What's all this about the date? Have I missed my birthday, because if I have, boy, am I gonna be sore!" Jack tried to lighten his tone, but his weary expression betrayed him.

"It's not your birthday, Daddy." Daniel said wistfully, his fingers idly rubbing the whiskers on Jack's face.

Jack caught the little hand and returned it to its owner. "Kids, all I know is that if we don't haul our butts to the markets we are going to starve." With a wink, he leant across and ruffled Cam's hair before shoving a ball cap onto the messy, uncombed hair. "Did you look in the mirror before you left the house?"

"Nah," Cam replied, shaking his shaggy head, "why mess with perfection."

"Right, what was I thinking? Okay, ground rules for shopping in a busy market are?"

A simultaneous groan was heard from the back seat.

"Do we hafta?" Slapping his hand on his forehead, Cam rolled his eyes theatrically before slinking as far as he could in his seat. "We all know what they are."

"Then, Cameron, would you care to go first?"

"Nope."

"One," Counted Jack, as his expression suddenly matched the irritated tone of his voice.

Cam bought the paternal clue swiftly and obediently recalled his mantra. "No running away. No touching all the toys and pretending they were already opened. No fighting with Danny."

Silence.

Spearing a look at Daniel in the rear vision mirror, Jack cleared his throat.

"Me? Oh, right. Rules? Mm, let me see…."

"Two."

With a hurried squeak, Daniel added his voice to the loathed family rules of grocery shopping with Jack. "No running away. No begging for food the moment we pull into the car park. No pretending the candy bars were already opened. No fighting with my brother."

Giving his head a stern nod, Jack pulled out of the driveway and into the traffic. "Ok, so we are good to go."

OoO

The rain tumbled relentlessly from the sky, and Jack was kept busy concentrating on the traffic. Turning the radio up, the sound of whatever sports commentator Jack had found drowned out the boy's covert conversation as they discussed the latest hiccough in their V-Day plan. Things were not going according to plan.

Folding his arms over his chest, a mutinous look flitted across Danny's face. "Boy, Daddy sure isn't in a good mood is he? It would serve him right if we didn't spend all our money on Valentine gifts for Sara and bought ourselves candy instead."

Daniel licked his lips and gave his brother a hopeful look. It wasn't returned.

"Forget it, Danny, that's not going to happen!" Cam whispered from the side of his mouth, one eye trained on the back of Jack's head. "Have you thought that if we can't give Daddy the slip, how are we going to buy all the crap?"

Daniel glowered, the thought of buying himself Snicker Bars had been a wonderful thought. "Flowers and candy, Cam, not crap! Okay, it's a problem but I am sure a brilliant idea will pop into my head the moment we get there."

"More like you'll pull one outta your butt!" Cam sniggered, all humor restored.

"Either way, be prepared to move the moment I give you the signal."

"Signal? What signal?" Cam's voice was thick with suspicion. "Why am I the one to slip away and risk being in trouble anyway?"

"Because, we all know what my secret power is."

"Huh?"

"My voice! I'll just use my super powers and talk Daddy to death! While he's pretending to ignore me, you can slip away and buy everything! By the time you get back with the long stemmed flowers and candy in your backpack, Daddy won't have even notice you were gone!"

"Shazaam! Boy, are you the smartest brother ever!"

Daniel polished his nails on his sweater. "Yes, you are lucky to have me."

. TBC….


End file.
